The Return of the King
by muchbeddled
Summary: King Richard returns to England. Marian survived and is married to Robin. Gisbourne wants revenge. May be missing chapters near the end of my story Battlefields of the Heart, or may stand alone.
1. Chapter 1

Dawn was just beginning to tinge the eastern sky with its soft pale light when Marian opened her eyes. Her outlaw husband slept soundly on the ground beside her, resting on his right side. She knew he would soon awaken, when the birdsong grew louder.

Marian sat up and brushed her hair back from her face, then combed her fingers through it. There were times she envied Djaq her shorn locks. Short hair would be so practical, living in the forest! But then she remembered the feel of Robin's fingers entwined through her hair when he'd kissed her last night, and she knew she could never cut it off.

Looking down, Marian smiled contentedly as she admired her husband's handsome face and form. She remembered calling him "beautiful" when she believed she was dying, and she'd meant it. He was beautiful, inside and out. So beautiful, it made her heart swell just looking at him. Beautiful, except of course for the hideous scar in his side.

With Robin asleep, Marian took time to look with pity and fascination at the wound Gisbourne had made. Sir Guy of Gisbourne had marked her with two ugly wounds of her own, but neither resembled the ghastly ragged flesh in Robin's side. His wound looked as if someone had hacked off bits of flesh, piece by piece, which was exactly what had happened. When his wound became infected, physicians had done just that, cutting off pieces of flesh as they began to rot. In spite of the warm morning, Marian shivered.

She knew that Gisbourne was still obsessed with her, even more so than before he learned she loved Robin. He'd vowed to find her, and make her pay for her "betrayal."

Beside her, Robin stirred, blinked open his eyes, then smiled lovingly up at her. "Good morning, Marian," he said, relishing her name on his lips. "My wife."

She didn't answer, but just settled back into his arms and nestled close. All worries of Gisbourne melted away.

"What plans have you made for today?" she asked, tracing her fingers over his cheek, down his scruffy throat, and back and forth lightly across his collar bone.

He moaned softly with pleasure, loving the feel of her touch. "More of the usual," he answered. "Steal more money to pay Richard's ransom, and get it into the hands of someone who can deliver it to Germany."

"I know that! I mean, specifically. Don't tell me that head of yours isn't bursting with plans."

Marian tousled his hair, and he responded by playfully grabbing her wrist and pinning it behind her. She struggled, thrilled with the game and the sensation of feeling his weight on top of her.

Her well placed knee kick gave Marian the upper hand, and she threw Robin off and and climbed on top of him.

"Nobody-can wrestle-like you, Marian," Robin panted, grinning with delight.

"Yes. Well, you need to remember that, the next time you-"

His finger in her spine made her collapse against him, and shortly, they were locked together, playfully rolling on the ground, kissing and mock fighting, but taking care not to hurt one another.

The sound of Much clearing his throat, just outside their private glade, made them freeze. "Are you up yet, Master?" the ever faithful servant called in to them. "It's time you were up! I've prepared a special breakfast!"

"In a minute, Much," Robin called back.

"Hurry!" Much warned. "You don't want it to get cold! I'll wait right here for you, Robin, alright?"

"Yes, Much," Robin replied, looking apologetically at his wife.

"Are you going to have a talk with him?" Marian quietly demanded.

"I have! He just misses me, is all."

"Tell him we're newlyweds, and would like to be alone."

"That's what I said. He thinks he _is_ leaving us alone."

"He thinks he's your mother!"

Robin snickered as he finished getting dressed. "I'll tell him you said that."

"No, don't," Marian sighed. "Don't hurt his feelings." Marian shook out her hair and stepped into her boots. "We need to find him some nice girl, so he can pester her instead of you."

"Good luck. Much is as loyal to that woman he met at Bonchurch as he is to me. No one will replace her in his affections."

"That spy? How can he care for her?"

Robin kissed the tip of Marian's nose. "He and I have a thing for spies," he told her with a wink. "Now, let's go see what he cooked up for breakfast. I'm starving."


	2. Chapter 2

"What's this muck?" Allan a Dale asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the gooey contents filling the bowl Much handed him.

"It's a special pottage," Much declared, defensively.

"Smells like horse*#%*," Allan scowled.

"I'll thank you to watch your tongue around my wife," Robin warned, half stern, half thrilled to be married and have Marian living with him at last.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Not bein' funny, but she's heard worse, right, Marian?"

"The sheriff employs some colorful terms," Marian agreed, rolling her eyes as Much handed her her breakfast.

Robin didn't enjoy his men criticizing their food, when so many people went hungry. Still, he was annoyed that Much had disrupted him this morning for a foul smelling bowl of pottage, when things had been so exciting between him and Marian. But then again, even if Much had prepared a King's feast, it wouldn't have been worth the interruption.

The thought of a king's feast reminded him of his plan to collect more ransom money to free King Richard from the German Prince of Bavaria, Henry Hohenstaufen.

"Well, lads," he said, finishing his breakfast, "I think I've eaten enough."

"Enough horse*#%*," Allan complained.

Robin threw him another warning glance.

"Robin doesn't like you swearing in front of me, you son of a whore," Kate whined.

Robin threw back his head and groaned. Marian pressed his forearm, whispering, "It's alright, really. My ears can take it, Robin."

He smiled at her gratefully. "Right then. Work to do."

All of his men gathered round expectantly, as Robin assigned duties.

"Where are we going today, Robin?" Will asked.

"Djaq, Kate," Robin began, "stay here and fletch arrows." Djaq, having married Will in the Holy Land, was expecting a baby, and neither Will nor Robin thought it wise to expose her to any unnecessary danger. Kate was simply a nuisance, who always seemed to get herself captured. It would be safer for everyone if she stayed behind.

"What about us?" Much asked, bustling over to his master's side.

Robin handed a purse of money to Little John, and another one to Will. "John," he instructed, "take Much and Marian with you to Clun, and distribute that money to the poor. And Will, you and Allan come to Nottingham with me."

Much appeared crestfallen at being denied Robin's company, but Marian voiced her objections aloud. "Why can't I go to Nottingham?" she asked.

"Because, my love," Robin smirked, "it isn't safe for you to show your gorgeous face there."

"And I suppose it's safe for you to show yours?"

"My gorgeous face? That's right! The 'Wanted' placards featuring my face don't look anything like me."

"Stop being smug. I'm serious."

"I'll wear a disguise. Now, do as I say, just for today. Please, Marian."

Marian paused to think, and then agreed. "Alright. But at least tell me what you're up to."

"Yes!" Much chorused. "We need to know your plan, Robin!"

"Will and I do," Allan insisted, "since we're part of it. What sort of disguises do we have to wear? Can you make mine the rich clothes of a lord, instead the usual beggar gear?"

"You and Will aren't wearing disguises, only me," Robin explained. "I need you two to deliver that purse to an old friend of mine, who'll be having a tankard at the Trip."

"The Trip?" Allan cried. "Nice!"

"But, Robin, isn't Allan well known at the Trip?"

"I'm a regular legend among those girls," Allan bragged.

"Well known, and well loved," Robin agreed.

"Very well loved," Allan boasted.

"No one will turn you in, I'm sure of it."

Robin supplied Will and Allan with the details concerning the man who would take the ransom money they'd collected to Germany. But Marian still was not satisfied. She waited, tapping her fingers impatiently on Robin's arm.

"You haven't mentioned your part in today's schemes, other than saying you'll be wearing a disguise," she said, once Robin had finished his instructions. "As your wife, I have a right to know your plans."

"As my wife, you do." Robin, unable to resist, turned to her and took her in his arms. Marian struggled for an instant, then relaxed and leaned comfortably against him.

"The sheriff's planning to entertain some very wealthy friends this afternoon, at a banquet honoring the Black Knights," Robin informed her. "And, I plan to be in attendance, which is why I needed to save my appetite, in spite of your excellent breakfast, Much."

"Thank you!" Much cried, pleased. And then, realization dawning, he objected, "You! You plan on dining with the sheriff?"

Marian pulled away. "Robin! You're not serious!"

"Oh, yes I am. But don't worry, he won't recognize me."

"How can you say that?" Much demanded. "What sort of disguise can hide you from the sheriff? If you were covered from head to toe, like some religious zealot in the Holy Land, the sheriff would still recognize you by your...your...well, you know how he stares at your behind!"

Robin cringed. Vaisey did indeed cast leering glances at his behind, something Robin desperately wanted to forget.

"My disguise will be so simple," Robin explained, "neither Vaisey nor Gisbourne will suspect a thing. That's the beauty of it!"

"Alright, Handsome," Marian said, impatiently, "enough bragging. Enough evasions. What are you planning to wear?"

Robin exhaled slowly. "I haven't exactly decided," he admitted. "Right now, I've only got half a plan. But when the other half strikes me, it'll be brilliant!"

Much and Marian looked at one another in disbelief.

"I do believe married life is stealing away his reason," Much told Marian. "Maybe you two shouldn't spend so much time alone together."

"Excuse me?" Marian asked.


	3. Chapter 3

"Not bein' funny, but this doesn't look like the Trip."

Allan quieted down after Robin shushed him. He and Will followed Robin surreptiously down the stone steps of Nottingham Castle, toward the kitchens.

"I thought you said Will and me were going to the Trip," Allan whispered again, disappointed at Robin's change in plan.

"You are," Robin assured him. "After you help me steal the sheriff's plates."

"Steal the sheriff's...what?" Allan wondered whether Much hadn't been right about married life stealing away Robin's reason.

Convinced they were safe from danger, temporarily at least, Robin offered an explanation in a very pleased and self satisfied manner. "We are going to steal his plates, his bowls and platters and such. Vaisey can't very well host a banquet without having something to put the food on! And then, Nicholaus the Potter will just happen to set up shop outside the castle walls, and sell his dinnerware back to the sheriff."

"Who's Nicholaus the Potter?" Allan asked, already guessing the answer.

Robin altered his accent and his expression. "Who do ye think?" he asked, then grinned proudly.

"Nice one!" Allan approved, as he and Will smiled at one another, impressed by their leader's scheme. "And then, Will and me head to the Trip?"

"As soon as we get this pottery out of here," Robin confirmed.

Robin emptied large baskets of vegetables they found in the kitchens and began filling them with the sheriff's crockery, carefully, of course, to prevent breakage.

"So," Will mused while they worked, "we steal the sheriff's plate, then you sell it back to him, and then you meet us at the Trip? Or back at camp?"

"Back at camp. Nicholaus has a bit more business to conduct in Nottingham, once he's lucky enough to wangle an invitation to the feast."

Robin's men stared at him, their eyes open wide in disbelief. Robin dismissed their alarm with a grin. "You didn't think I'd let the sheriff's wealthy guests carry their heavy purses back home with them, did you? After enjoying such a hearty meal, they should be glad to have someone lighten their loads."

"You need us for that, Robin," Will said. "We'll help you steal from the guests, when the banquet's over."

"No. You just be sure to deliver the money to Sir Herbert, and head back to camp. It's not fair for your wife to watch over Kate, all alone."

By this time, they had filled the baskets stock full of dinnerware, and emptied the cupboards. "Good work, lads," Robin told them, as each man hoisted several baskets and carried them away, out a secret back exit.

"Good luck, Robin," Will said, when they were in the street again.

"Yeah. Don't do anything stupid," Allan told him. "Marian wouldn't stay a lonely widow for long, you know."

Robin laughed. "I have no intention of letting that happen. Now, go, so I can locate a disguise."

...

"Why do you always, always do this?" Much asked Marian, following her as she ducked in and out through the crowd of people in Nottingham. "You promised Robin you'd go to Clun!"

"I lied. What are you going to do about it?"

"Haven't we had this conversation before? You're not planning on kissing Gisbourne again, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm a married woman now."

"Yes. Well, all the more reason for you to obey your husband!"

"You're not obeying him. You're supposed to be in Clun, too."

"Unbelievable! I would be, if you hadn't come here! Robin would want me to look after you!"

"I don't need looking after. And I certainly don't need you shouting, drawing attention to us. Now, since you are here, help me to find Robin."

They stopped and hid behind a wooden pole, to watch a group of soldiers clump past them. Thankfully, it was Market Day, and the street was filled with bustle and activity.

"Robin's here," Marian whispered to Much. "I keep hearing his voice, but I can't place him."

Much listened. "I heard him, too, I think."

They both listened again, straining their ears.

"There he is!" Marian gasped, looking at a potter selling his wares at a table across the street.

"Where? Oh, surely not! That fat bellied man can't be!"

"Look harder," Marian advised, not being able to take her eyes off her husband in his excellent disguise.

Much looked, and finally spied his master through the disguise.

Robin wore his own boots and trousers, but otherwise was decked in a rough smock and apron, smeared with clay and tied over a round belly. A red curly wig with a large bald spot sat on top of his head. He'd smeared thick russet colored clay over his eyebrows and beard, disguising their color and making them appear heavier than they were. A black gummy substance over several teeth gave the appearance they were missing.

"Well, I must say," Much commented, after hearing potential customers complain that the potter's prices were too dear, "at least he's not selling his wares for kisses! Remember that time he went hunting, and sold his meat for kisses, Marian, to put the crooked butcher out of business?"

"Please don't remind me," she commented, not enjoying the memory of watching so many pretty women line up to buy Robin's meat and get to kiss the handsome "butcher" in the bargain.

Much chuckled. "He knew you would be purchasing meat for Knighton Hall that morning, which is why he thought of making the price of his meat a kiss."

Marian smiled, in spite of herself. "I also remember how his face looked when I tricked him! Imagine his nerve when it was my turn in line, telling me the price for a noblewoman was ten kisses! Do you remember how smug he looked when I agreed?"

"You were smiling so flirtatiously at him, Marian! I was sure you would kiss him!"

"But wasn't it funny when I asked my servant Gladys to pay him instead? Poor Robin! Gladys was old enough to be his grandmother."

"Yes! But she looked more like his grandfather, with those salt and pepper whiskers on her chin!"

Much and Marian enjoyed a light laugh, but grew deadly serious when they saw Guy of Gisbourne stride straight past them.

Gisbourne, boots stomping, spurs jangling, black coat billowing out behind him, was heading straight toward Robin's table set with plates, bowls, cups, and platters.


	4. Chapter 4

Even from her distant hiding place across a Nottingham street, Marian could detect the gleam of proud hatred in Robin's eyes, as she watched Guy of Gisbourne stride toward him. Together with Much, Marian held her breath as she watched, readying herself to fight.

Gisbourne, having reached Robin's table stacked high with the castle crockery, sneered at the "potter" and asked, "Where did you get all this?"

"I made it, my lord," Robin lied, his voice pitched in a thick accent. "My own two hands fashioned it out of clay."

"Made it," Gisbourne sneered, threateningly. "Don't insult me. This is the castle plate!" Gisbourne drew his sword from its scabbard and held its point under Robin's chin, flicking off a dried bit of clay from Robin's beard. "How did you come by it?" he demanded to know.

Robin ought to have pretended to show fear to aid his disguise as a middle aged potter, but he refused to give Gisbourne the satisfaction. His eyes glared boldly back at his sworn enemy.

"Like I said, I made it. Just like I made all the plate for the castle, back when we served under a fair and decent sheriff."

Marian gave another small gasp at hearing Robin allude to her father, to echo the one she had made when Gisbourne put his sword to her husband's throat.

"Come, come, Gisbourne," came the snide voice of Vaisey, as he suddenly appeared strutting over to join his lieutenant. "Is that any way to treat one of our hard working tradesmen, hmm? A clue...no. Why, this man is more than a craftsman; he is an artist! Look how he managed to duplicate the very wares that have gone missing from our storerooms! If I gave any credence to religious goobly gook, I'd declare it a miracle!"

Robin knew they had him, and he realized his plan hadn't been as clever as he had thought. Still, they hadn't guessed who he was yet, or so he believed. There was still a chance he could accomplish his mission of robbing the sheriff's wealthy guests, even if he wasn't paid for the stolen pottery.

"Just for you, Sheriff," he said in a wheedling tone, "I'd like to offer a special on my wares today. Two for the price of one!"

Gisbourne scratched Robin's neck with his swordpoint, removing more of the smeared on clay that darkened the outlaw's beard. Vaisey's sharp eyes took it in, and he surprised Gisbourne by saying, "Pay the potter, Gisbourne."

"My lord?" Gisbourne asked, dumbfounded.

"You heard my orders. Pay him!"

Robin couldn't resist a smirk, which only served to convince the sheriff of his suspected identity. Vaisey grew so excited, he could barely stop himself from jumping up and down in glee. He'd spotted those bold blue eyes at once, for he knew them well, secretly dreaming of them by night. He had Hood in his grasp, if only Gisbourne wouldn't ruin things! Oh, this was good! This was good!

Much was frantic, and Marian, too, though she hid her fear under a false, cool composure. "He can't suspect," she assured Much, hardly believing it herself, "but be ready to charge, just in case."

Gisbourne grudgingly resheathed his sword, then pulled out a purse and began counting out coins into Robin's outstretched palm.

Vaisey licked his lips as he studied the long tapering fingers on the potter's hand, with their hard callouses formed from years of drawing a bowstring. He knew those sensitive hands as well as he knew their owner's handsome eyes, for he often imagined them stroking him. But it was Hood's backside he knew best of all, for that was what he longed to spank, and do other unspoken things to, before he had Hood killed in a most excruciatingly painful manner, of course.

"I thank your lordships for your patronage," Robin smirked, in his potter's voice. "Now, allow me one final request."

"And what is that, hmm, my good man?" Vaisey asked, barely containing his excitement.

"Allow me to set your table for your feast. Each piece I crafted is like my own child, you see. I wouldn't trust anyone else to do my work justice, and lay it just anywhere on your table. Not for a feast honoring such noble guests."

"What is he doing?" Much hissed. "Unbelievable!"

"Shh!" Marian warned, wondering just as strongly why Robin didn't take the money and make his escape.

To Gisbourne's annoyance, the sheriff put one arm around the shoulders of the "potter" and used his free hand to poke him on his soft round belly. "Goosefeathers," Vaisey thought secretly to himself. "Goosefeathers, over that lean, hard, well muscled torso." He licked his lips again.

"I will grant your request," Vaisey grinned, so eagerly that Robin knew it was a trap. "And I'll do you one better! Because you happened to come along with your wares in the nick of time, just when ours had gone missing, hmm, I'll invite you to dine with us at our feast today!"

"My lord!" Gisbourne objected.

"Shut up, Gisbourne!" Vaisey turned his attention back to Robin. "What say you, my friend, hmm?"

Robin knew the sheriff had guessed his identity, but attending the feast was part of his plan. He would need to think up a new plan to escape, but he was confident he could do so.

"Your lordship honors me more than a poor potter deserves," he replied.

"Well, then!" Vaisey crowed, enjoying the consternation in Gisbourne's eyes almost as much as having Hood in his grasp, "To the feast!"

"Now what?" Much whispered to Marian, as they watched the sheriff watch Robin begin to pack up his "wares." Gisbourne turned away in disgust when he saw the sheriff oogle the potter's behind, as the tradesman bent over.

Marian thought for a moment, then decided. "Find a guard's uniform for yourself, and I'll dress as a serving maid. We've got to be there to help him!"


	5. Chapter 5

"A serving maid? A serving maid? I don't think so!"

Much was adament in his objections concerning Marian's choice of disguise.

"We don't have time for this," Marian insisted impatiently. "Just find a guard uniform, and meet me back here as quickly as you can."

"Oh, no! Not until you promise to dress up in something more...more...more disguised!"

Marian dismissed Much's anxiety with a roll of her eyes. "Gisbourne won't recognize me," she tried to assure the frantic servant. "I'll do as Robin did, and darken and thicken my eyebrows. Though _I _won't be so foolish and use clay, which dries and flakes off! I'll use the burnt end of a stick instead."

Much thought Marian seemed overly pleased with herself. Why must she always throw caution to the wind, and risk her neck? He humphed. "Two of a kind," he muttered, complaining under his breath as he darted away. "I'm not saying anything."

...

Much returned a short while later, disguised as a castle guard. He found Marian decked out in a servant gown and apron, peering into her sword blade as she painted soot over her lovely eyebrows.

"That's nowhere near good enough," he protested. "You're still too...too...too eyecatching."

Marian tucked her hair under a cap. "Is this any better?" she asked.

"You still look too gorgeous," Much complained.

Marian couldn't hide a smile. Robin's words on Much's lips always came off humorously, though Much had meant them in all seriousness. "It will have to do," she said. "Robin needs us."

"Well then, here," Much told her, shoving a bundle of clothing into her hands. "At least wear this, under your gown. Robin made himself fat, and so can you!"

"Turn your back, then," Marian agreed.

Once she had adjusted the bundle over her abdomen, she gave Much permission to inspect her. "How do I look now?" she asked.

Much snorted. "Like you're about to deliver triplets!" he shouted.

Marian's face fell. Much had no idea how greatly she grieved within herself, believing she could never bear children.

Gisbourne's wound to her in the Holy Land had killed the new life that had been growing inside her, and she had been told it had also destroyed any chance she ever had to harbor another one. And now that she was married to Robin, she longed for a child with all her heart.

But Marian wasn't one to waste time in self pity. Especially not when she believed her beloved husband was walking into danger.

Without caring if Much caught a glimpse of more than he should, she reached up under her gown and tore the clothing bundle from her.

"What are you doing?" Much cried.

"A serving maid great with child is bound to attract more unwelcome attention than one who isn't expecting," she explained, her tone impatient.

"You just tell me what kind of attention you think won't be unwelcome," Much replied, nervously lowering his visor. "Alright, Marian," he said, gulping back his fear. "Time to appear?"

Marian rolled her eyes at his failed attempt to sound like Robin, then nodded her head. "Let's go," she agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

The Sheriff's banquet was in full swing by the time Much and Marian snuck into the Great Hall. Marian openly carried a ewer of wine, but secretly concealed a dagger in the bosom of her gown.

"What does he think he's doing?" Much whispered frantically, discovering Robin in his potter disguise seemingly making merry seated between the sheriff and Gisbourne at the head banqueting table.

Gisbourne's evil face wore an even more unpleasant sneer than usual.

"Do you think he suspects?" Marian asked Much.

"Who, Gisbourne? I hope not! You just make certain he won't suspect you!"

"Don't worry. I have no desire to show my face to Gisbourne."

With a brisk nod of his head, Much nervously left Marian's side to join the ranks of the castle guard, stationed in a ring surrounding the guests.

Marian kept far away from the sheriff's table and from the one seating Isabella, circulating instead among the guests she did not recognize, trying her best to look inconspicuous. Her incredible beauty and elegant carriage made her fail, miserably. Every gentleman who looked upon her forgot all about his wife and mistress.

Robin spied her the instant his glance met hers, effectively distracting him for a few moments from his mission. The sheriff heard him take in his breath sharply, and turned his own eyes toward what had grabbed the "potter's" attention.

"Oh! The Leper!" Vaisey thought. "This is good!"

After his initial elation, Vaisey tensed, realizing he might be surrounded by Hood's men. It was time to inform Gisbourne of the identity of their Guest of Honor. But first, it would be fun to bait him about the Leper.

"Gisbourne," Vaisey began, "what do you mean by seving our guest this bitter wine, hmm? Our friend Nicholaus here deserves nothing but the finest Burgundy! See to it, Gisbourne."

Guy of Gisbourne had no clue why the sheriff was consulting him about wine. "My lord, I hardly think it falls under my duties to-"

"I'm but a poor tradesman," Robin interrupted, his instincts warning him that Marian was now in danger, "unused to wine. I won't drink another drop."

"Oh! But you must sample another vintage, my good man!" Vaisey insisted, grinning maniacally as he flashed the gap from his missing tooth at Robin. "Gisbourne, go fetch that serving wench hovering about in the shadows over there. I'm sure someone mixed up her wine with the foul brew we're being served!"

Seething inside at the sheriff's latest effront to his position, Gisbourne cast his glare at Marian.

Robin saw him go pale, then flush. "Marian!" Gisbourne cried, her name wrenching from deep inside him, his tone conflicted with accusation, hatred, and desire.

"Your little game is up, Hood!" the sheriff gloated. "Thought to sell me back my own plate, Robin, hmm? Well, your little scheme has failed, my friend! I've got you now, and it is your turn now, to 'pay the piper', as it were. Or shall we say, 'pay the potter?' "

"You've already paid me, Vaisey," Robin said, his eyes gleaming with smirking defiance. "Gisbourne here counted out the money, right into my hand. The poor will thank you, Gisbourne, when they're not busy praying for the damnation of your soul."

"Hood?" Gisbourne cried, in disbelief. With a roar, he stood, and threw himself on Robin.

The two adversaries fell onto the table, sending the dishes crashing to the floor, and shattering. Locked in a wrestling grip, they fell to the ground, beating each other fiercely as they rolled about.

Goosefeathers showered from inside Robin's shirt, and his wig came off, revealing his sandy brown hair. Gisbourne's hatred escalated at the sight of it.

The sheriff stood by, jumping up and down and clapping his hands in glee. The vision of the two handsome men locked together in mortal combat, rolling about on the ground, was highly arousing. "Oh! This is good!" he panted over and over again.

Much was frantic, not knowing what to do. Should he charge? Whom should he charge? Gisbourne? But he might accidentally wound Robin! They were rolling about so fast! He looked to Marian for help, his eyes bulging with fear and anxiety.

Isabella rose from her seat and coolly approached Marian. "I knew it was Robin all along," she sneered. "I could tell by his tight fitting trousers."

Without stopping to think, Marian seized Isabella and laid her dagger to her throat. "Stop!" Marian cried to the entire company. "I demand you let Robin Hood go free, or else, she dies."

Robin and Gisbourne immediately stopped fighting. The sound of Marian's voice, so long missing from Gisbourne's ears, temporarily disabled him.

"Kill her!" Vaisey announced, grinning like the Devil himself.

Isabella was panting in fear. "My Lord Sheriff!" she begged. "Guy! Do something!"

Gisbourne cared not whether Isabella lived or died. There was Marian, in the very same room with him again, back from the dead! Hood's whore, he bitterly reminded himself. He turned once more on Robin, thirsty for his blood.

His brief moment of hesitation gave Robin the chance he needed. Robin grabbed a knife from the table and held it to Gisbourne's throat, echoing his wife's action. "Looks like we've caught a pair of Gisbournes, my love!" Robin called across the room. "Now, what do you suggest we do with them, eh?"

"Toss them in the moat!" Much suggested, joining Robin at last.

"Well met, Much," Robin grinned, his eyes still hard and dangerous. "Who else is here?"

"Just us three. You know Marian. I had to follow her here, Robin! I had to protect her!"

"Guards!" Vaisey shouted. "Never mind the Gisbournes! Get Hood!"

"Robin? Run?" Much cried.

"Get Marian out of here, NOW!" Robin ordered, as guards closed in on him. Much dashed away, but Marian would not be swayed.

"I swear, lay one hand on my husband, and she dies!" she called again.

"Help me!" Isabella begged.

"Let her die! Get Hood!" Vaisey was single minded in his desires.

Robin believed his only chance at escape was to secure a bow and arrows. Throwing Gisbourne aside, he shoved an elbow into a charging guard's ribs and grabbed the man's bow and as many arrows as he could lay his fist around, then lined them up to shoot.

The guards backed away.

"Now," Robin said, stepping backwards in Much and Marian's direction, "no one needs to die here today. Marian, release your hostage."

"I won't! Not until you get safely away!"

"Do as I say!"

"No!"

"Please!" Much cried, exasperated. "You two have picked a fine time to argue, I must say!"

"We're not arguing," Robin said, still backing away, his stolen arrows aimed at any guard who moved a muscle. "She's just about to obey my orders, aren't you, Marian?"

"In your dreams."

"Robin! Rescue me!" Isabella panted. With a yank, Marian twisted her wrist.

The sheriff was screaming at the top of his lungs, but no one heeded him. Everyone knew, Hood never missed a shot.

By this time, Robin had reached his wife and friend.

"Let her go, Marian," he demanded, his voice angry.

"You get away first," she insisted stubbornly.

"Much, drag her by her hair, if you have to! I've got this! Why can't you see, Marian, if it weren't for me aiming these arrows, we'd all be caught, thanks to you barging in here today! You're supposed to be in Clun!"

Marian refused to see his point, though she knew in her heart he was right. "You shouldn't go to Nottingham alone! You need us, Robin!"

"Yes, I need you! I need you more than the air I breathe, but not this way! You've ruined my plans today, did you know that? I would have robbed these parasites of their wealth, and sent it on to free King Richard, if it hadn't been for you!"

Marian wanted to cry. She knew she had destroyed Robin's plans, and she was sorry, yet she didn't regret coming. He might have been captured, all alone! And none of the gang would know.

Much was pulling on her arm, and Robin stood just in front of her, shielding her from the sheriff's men, but mostly, from Gisbourne. Guy was staring at her obsessively, his face a mixture of conflicted emotions. It made her shudder inside.

Admitting defeat, Marian released Isabella, shoving her away with all her might, then turned with Much to run from the castle. Robin breathed a hot sigh of relief, and continued backing away. When he reached the door, he called back, "It's been fun, Vaisey. We should do this again sometime."

With a spring in his step, he turned and fled, so quickly he overtook Much. Grabbing Marian by her hand, he pulled her with him.

"After him!" Vaisey screamed. "Don't let Hood escape me again, you blithering oafs!"

But Robin, Much, and Marian were long out of reach.


	7. Chapter 7

When they'd nearly reached camp, Robin sent Much on ahead so that he could have words with Marian in private.

"So," he began sternly, once Much had darted away, "you disobeyed my orders...again."

"I don't appreciate you speaking to me as if I'm just any member of your gang, Robin. I'm your wife."

"All the more reason for you to do as you're told."

"How dare you? You learned long ago I resent it when you order me about."

"And why is that, Marian? You'd think I would have earned your respect by now!"

"I don't respect men who shout."

Robin tried to steady himself by taking a deep breath. Lowering his volume, he continued. "I did not mean to shout at you. I'm sorry. But the fact remains, you disobeyed me and ruined my plan. If you had gone where I'd told you, I'd be coming home with a wealth of ransom money, instead of this miserable pittance." He pulled forth the small purse containing the money Gisbourne had paid him for the castle plate, and tossed it to the ground at Marian's feet.

"You might not be coming home at all, and then, what would I do?" she asked, starting off proudly, but then, her voice dissolved as she choked back a sob.

Her obvious emotion instantly quenched his anger. Almost tenderly, he told her, "I don't need you to protect me, Marian. I can look after myself."

Marian felt terrible at having destroyed Robin's plan. So many emotions flooded her from their recent ordeal. Fear for Robin's life, hatred toward Isabella, uneasiness over Guy's piercing eyes, and, underneath them all, raw grief from Much's flippant comment concerning her appearing to be with child.

She thought she had conquered her sorrow over their lost child months ago, but now, confronted on a daily basis with Djaq's blessed condition, she found herself grieving anew.

To her annoyance, tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned her back to her husband, hastily brushing her tears away with the back of her hand.

"Marian!" Robin cried, concerned.

She didn't resist when he took her gently in his comforting arms.

"Hey," he said softly, "it's alright. Shh. It's alright, Marian. You did it for love."

She couldn't stop the flow of her tears. "It's my fault," she gushed. "I shouldn't have faced him, unarmed."

"You had a dagger," Robin said, not understanding her thoughts had shifted to another time and place. "A dagger you used to great advantage, I might add."

"No, not today."

He waited patiently while she struggled to explain, holding her close while gently stroking her rich, dark hair.

Her words came out chokingly. "That day in Acre. I rushed in, unarmed, and he killed our baby. It's my fault."

"No," Robin said soothingly, moved beyond words at her distress. "It was Gisbourne's fault. You saved the King, Marian, but I was too late to save you."

"I lived, somehow, though you believed me dead, for months and months. But now, the King's held hostage, and I ruined your chance to steal his ransom. And our baby's dead, and we'll never have another!"

Robin looked lovingly into her eyes, searching them and offering hope. "I'll still get that ransom, but I won't be such a fool as to try and do it alone next time. And as for children, well, you know me. I never give up."

Marian sniffed and blinked away her tears. Robin took her hands and kissed each one.

"Tomorrow," he said sweetly, "let's a pay a visit to Matilda. Djaq's very talented, but children are Matilda's specialty."

"What can she do?" Marian asked, hopelessly.

"I don't know. But it can't hurt to ask, can it?"

Marian could only shake her head. Her emotion had drained her, but Robin was bursting with energy. "Come on," he said gently, "come back to camp, and don't think about it any more tonight. I need to think up a really good plan to steal the guests' money, before they head back to their homes. Or maybe, while they're heading back! Are you alright?" he asked, seeing her still unhappy.

"I'll be fine, but please, don't tell everyone else what I did today. I don't want them comparing me to Kate."

Robin thoughtfully chewed his lower lip, guessing that Much had already told the others the tale, at least three times by now. But he told her what he thought she needed to hear. "No one could ever make that comparison. I love you, Marian. Now, let's go home."


	8. Chapter 8

Marian awoke the following morning wrapped in her husband's arms, realizing that all the previous day's unhappiness had vanished during the night.

Robin was already awake, looking and smelling so wonderful, Marian found she wanted him all over again. "Good morning, my husband," she murmured with a kiss.

Robin kissed her lovingly in return, but before he could speak his greeting, Much's voice interrupted them from just outside their bower.

"Good morning, Master!" chirped Much's bright morning voice. "I thought I heard you rustling about in there! Are you up? It's time you were up! I've cooked you a splendid breakfast, and you mustn't let it get cold!"

"Go away, Much!" Marian called to him, impatiently.

Robin propped himself up on one elbow. "I'll be along soon," he called to his loyal servant. "And I promise to eat more than one helping, if you'll only give me a few moments alone with my wife!"

"With your wife?" Much called back. "But, why? She's had your company all night long!"

"I was asleep most of the time," Robin reminded him. "I just want to bid her good morning, before we join the rest of the gang. Go on and dish me up a plate of whatever it is you cooked."

There was a pause, while Much decided what to do. "Alright," he grudgingly agreed at last. "But don't be long. I'll be counting the moments, if I only knew how to count."

"I suppose we'd better get up," Marian decided, none too pleased. "I can't very well concentrate on you, picturing Much counting away the minutes."

"Can't you now?" Robin asked, with a grin, pulling her back down to him after she'd risen. "I, on the other hand, am dying with curiosity to know just how high we can get Much to count!"

Marian's smile echoed her husband's, and they joyfully forgot everything but one another.

...

"I thought you were only saying, 'Good morning,' " Much huffed, angrily shoving a plate of cold, rubbery eggs at Robin, quite some time later. "I'm not saying anything."

"Eggs!" Robin cried, appreciatively. "Would you like some eggs, Marian?"

"I would love some," she said, smiling as she took a plate from a fuming Much.

Everyone else in the gang had long since eaten, but Robin didn't care. Everyone, with the exception of Much, appeared happy and busy. Even Kate had stopped her typical scowling, as she held swords for Little John to sharpen.

"Marian and I need to leave you lads alone this morning," Robin informed the gang.

"Alone! And just where are you two gallivanting off to, if I may ask?" Much asked snippily.

"We're going to pay a visit to Matilda," Marian answered for her husband. "Do you have any objections to that?"

"I suppose not," Much fumed. "Still, I hope it won't take you as long as it did, just to say 'Good morning!' "

"We'll be back before you can miss us," Robin grinned, grabbing his bow. And before Much could answer, Robin and Marian had disappeared through the foliage.

"Humph!" Much snorted, staring after them.

"What's your problem?" Allan asked.

"I'm not saying anything," Much responded.

...

Matilda was feeding her chickens when she spotted Robin and Marian step from the treeline, into the meadow surrounding her cottage.

"Robin!"

Matilda enfolded him in her motherly embrace and gave his scruffy cheek a noisy kiss. "And your lady! This is a surprise! Come, come, come, and tell me why you're here."

"It's a delicate matter," Marian began, slightly embarrassed, now that Matilda's sharp eyes were peering through her.

"Ah! Forget delicate!" Matilda advised. "I brought this one into the world, and nursed him through all his childhood ailments! You couldn't be delicate with me, if you dressed him in lavender silk and had him dance a galliard!"

Marian smiled at her husband, and he boldly began discusssing the reason for their visit.

"It concerns us having a child," Robin stated.

"A child! Congratulations!" Matilda crowed, grabbing and kissing Marian this time.

"No, we're not expecting," Marian corrected her. "We can't, you see, and we wonder if you can help us."

"Help you to conceive?" Matilda asked, somewhat brazenly. "I might. Tell me," she said, turning straight to Robin, "How often are you intimate, in a week's time? Twice?"

"Twice, a week? Is that all?" Robin scoffed.

"We're newlyweds," Marian explained, blushing.

"Well then, how much seed do you spill?"

"Matilda!" Robin cried, chaffed and embarrassed. "Don't ask me that! There's no problem with my virility!"

"Men!" Matilda scoffed, knocking him on the side of his head. "They always blame the woman, when nine times out of ten, the fault lies with them!"

"This must be the tenth time," Marian soberly explained. "Robin's not to blame, I am. I suffered a wound, and lost our child. And Djaq told me I'd probably never conceive another."

"A wound?" Matilda asked, surprised to hear the former Lady Marian had ever been expecting. "How far along were you when this happened?"

"I'm not sure. A few months. I was only just beginning to show."

"I see. Who wounded you? That slimey fox turd, Guy of Gisbourne?"

"How did you guess?" Robin asked, in a cold, hard voice.

"Come inside, and I'll look you over, and give you some advice. I've counselled many a lass who thought they'd never have a bairn, and before you knew it, they were making a beeline to my door, begging me for a potion to stop the bairns from coming!"

"I'd never ask you for that," Marian told her. "Robin and I want a house full of children, don't we?"

Matilda snorted. "You'll be singing a different tune, once you've squeezed out the fifth or sixth one, trust me. Now, no more talk. Let's take a look at your wound."


	9. Chapter 9

"Now," Matilda said, having thoroughly examined Marian. "I'm sorry, but your friend Djaq was right. Short of a miracle happening, you will never be a mother."

Matilda's words cut through Marian like a knife. "No," the beautiful young wife muttered quietly. "I cannot accept that."

Matilda shrugged. "I said, 'short of a miracle,' didn't I? I suggest you two start praying, or resign yourselves to a childless marriage."

Just as Marian felt her knees begin to buckle, Robin was there, holding her up. "Thank you," she heard him tell Matilda, his voice sounding sad and unfamiliar. But then, his buoyant optimism brought back the lilt to his voice as he said, "But you're forgetting one thing. I am Robin Hood, so miracles just happen to be a specialty of mine, don't they, my love? Marian?"

Marian summoned her courage and managed to give him a tiny half smile, though her heart was breaking. "Of course," she replied, feeling it was utterly hopeless. "We have each other, after all, and all the time in the world."

...

Hand in hand, they walked slowly back toward camp. Sensing how sad Marian felt, Robin stooped to pick a fistful of wild flowers and hand them to her, along with a sweet, appealing look.

His well meaning gesture brought a genuine smile to her lips. "Robin," she said, laughing, "you are the only man in the world who would offer his wife a bouquet of Deadly Nightshade!"

"Sorry," he said, flinging the flowers away, "I only wanted to-"

"Poison me, so you could marry someone who can give you an heir?"

Her unhappiness came flooding back, causing her to speak bitterly. Tears stung her eyes once more, and Robin wrapped her in his arms.

"Shh," he said soothingly. "Don't ever say that again, Marian. Remember who it is you married."

"Robin Hood, worker of miracles, the Perfect Shot whose aim never misses?"

She was referring to a boastful joke he'd made when she'd told him she was expecting months before, about being a "perfect shot." But he wasn't joking now, nor being boastful. He was tender and loving and patient.

"I was thinking of Robin Hood, the outlaw. The man with no property, no money, no future. Unless, of course, you were thinking of getting rich by turning me in for the reward money on my head. I hear it keeps climbing."

"It's enormous, by now," she said, gazing lovingly back at him. "If you could only get your hands on half of it, it would go a long way toward paying off the King's ransom."

Marian had only been trying to play along with Robin, to comfort him as he was comforting her. She hadn't meant for her words to light a fire within him.

But they had.

His eyes lit up, and an eager, devious expression graced his face.

"What?" Marian asked, wondering what clever plan had struck him now.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand again. "You, my love, have just given me the plan I needed!"

...

Marian found she had to take small running steps to keep up with her husband as they continued on their way through the forest. She nearly lost her balance when he abruptly stopped moving.

"Shh!" he cautioned her. "Did you hear that?"

Marian listened, but couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Knowing better than to speak, she merely shook her head and continued to listen and to search with her eyes.

Robin seemed to hone in on something. First laying a finger to his lips, he signaled for Marian to follow him. Together, they crept toward a large shrub near the base of a massive oak.

Marian could hear what he'd heard now, as well. It was the distinct sound of a child snivelling.

Even though he was certain he'd tracked a child, Robin moved Marian behind him and drew his Irish knife from off his hip, before parting the branches of the shrub.

From over his shoulder, Marian saw the terrified face of a small boy, dressed in rags, his face and bare arms a mass of cuts and bruises.

"Don't be afraid," Robin said in a kind, gentle voice, sheathing his knife before the boy had glimpsed it. "I'm Robin Hood, and this is Marian. What's your name?"

"We're here to help you," Marian added, her heart going out to the child with the wide brown eyes, dark unruly hair, and frail form.

The child didn't speak, though he made a few grunting noises.

"His tongue's been cut out," Robin fumed, so angry at the injustice even Marian felt a slight twinge of fear from his tone.

"Poor child!" she cried, stepping forward, dropping to her knees before the bush, and taking the boy into her arms.

The child snuggled against her body, sending a warm rush of emotion through her. "Robin," she said, "we have to take him with us."

"Yes," he agreed. "Come on. Whoever beat him so soundly could be looking for him as we speak." Turning kind eyes on the boy, he asked, "Will you come with us, and let us care for you? My friend Much has probably cooked a wonderful dinner by now. Are you hungry?"

The boy nodded his head vigorously.

"Good!" Robin smiled at him with his own boyish grin. "Can you walk? That's excellent! Well, then, come along with us and meet my gang!"

The boy walked between Robin and Marian, each of his little hands clasped in one of theirs, while the husband and wife cast warm, loving smiles at one another over his head.


	10. Chapter 10

Much was so pleased to see Robin return, at first he didn't even notice the small boy his master and Marian had brought along with them. When he did notice, his eyes grew wider than ever, and he asked, "Who's this?"

Djaq asked no questions when Marian led the boy to her.

"Can you apply your magical salve to his wounds?" Marian requested of her. "It does wonders to soothe away pain."

"Of course," Djaq agreed, skillfully taking a mental check of the cuts and bruises on the child's face, arms, and legs, and guessing more of the same must be hidden under his rags. "I will get it at once. But first, we must wash his wounds in clear water."

Kate looked up from the arrows she was fletching and whined, "What's he doing here?"

"You know him?" Robin asked, surprised.

"That's Bat," she said.

At the mention of his name, Bat's gaze shot toward Kate, but he did not appear to recognize her.

"Who's Bat?" Will wanted to know. Robin was listening intently as well.

"You know him," Kate insisted. "He's Lydia's son."

Will looked embarrassed, and said, "Oh, that Bat. I thought he was dead."

"So did everyone in Locksley. But that's him alright. Missing tongue and all."

"Wait a minute," Robin said. "Lydia, from my village? I didn't know she had married."

"She didn't," Kate explained, while Will looked away. "Bat's her shame."

Suddenly, Kate found herself staring into Marian's face. "Don't you ever call him that," Marian warned her.

Kate glared back at Marian and thrust out her chin. "Why not?" she challenged. "It's what everyone calls him."

"Not any longer," Robin told her firmly, stepping between the two women. "He's to be treated with the utmost kindness, until I can find out where he needs to live and deliver him there."

"You mean we're gonna keep him here with us?" Allan asked incredulously. "Him? Bat the Rat?"

Robin's head was spinning. "What?" he asked. "Don't tell me you know him, too."

"Yeah, I know him. He used to empty chamber pots at the castle. Clean privys and such. Castle rat. You oughta recognize him, Marian."

She shook her head. The "castle rats," children so called because they performed the dirtiest jobs at the castle, were ordered to keep out of sight of the nobility, and Bat had successfully evaded the Lady Marian's vision to save himself a beating from his cruel master.

"Will one of you please tell us all you know about him?" Marian asked impatiently, returning to the boy and holding him protectively on her lap.

"I will," Will volunteered, saving everyone's ears from Kate's whiney voice.

All eyes focused on Will as he began his story.

"Surely you remember Lydia, Robin," Will said, and Robin thoughtfully nodded his head, remembering the pretty young serf who had been almost painfully serious and shy. "Well, not long after Gisbourne first took over Locksley, it became clear she was with child."

"Most say Gisbourne's the father, but nobody knows for sure," Kate added. "Lydia never told. Not even when she lay dying would she say."

Everyone looked at Bat, growing uncomfortable at his strong resemblance to Sir Guy of Gisbourne.

Marian tried to distract the child from listening to the conversation, while keeping her own ears tuned to it. The shock of him likely being Guy's son disturbed her. "Poor child," she kept thinking. "Poor motherless child." She smiled sweetly at him.

"How did Lydia die?" Robin asked, pitching his voice low so the child wouldn't hear and be distressed by the question.

Will sighed painfully. "She starved to death, just before you returned." Recalling his own mother's death, he bitterly added, "She wasn't the only one who gave most of her meager food to her son."

Robin appeared so grieved, Much rushed to his side and said, "Master! It can't be helped. Nobody's starved since we've come home. You've seen to that."

"We are Robin Hood!" Little John bellowed, trying to boost Robin's spirits.

Robin nodded his head, more determined than ever to carry on his good works. "And who took care of the lad, after his mother died?"

"I couldn't say," Will continued. "I was outlawed right after that."

Kate took over telling the story. "He just disappeared, right after the sheriff had his tongue cut out. We never knew what became of him."

"Why did that monster cut out his tongue?" Robin asked. "He wasn't one of those who suffered when the sheriff was searching for me, I hope."

"Naw," Kate told him. "The sheriff did it the next day, after you escaped, all so he could test Gisborne's loyalty. He was so angry at you for mocking him and getting away, he just had to do something. And he'd had fun the day before, cutting out tongues in Locksley, he thought he'd do it again."

"I thought I stopped that brutality," Robin seethed. "If I'd only known..."

"The sheriff didn't think you meant you'd get back for harming _him_," Kate said, pointing at Bat, "since he's only a child of shame."

"Kate," Robin warned, sick at heart from what he'd just learned, "you're never to call him that again, understand?"

"Do you mean to say," Djaq interrupted, "that Gisbourne stood by and watched the sheriff cut out his own child's tongue?"

"Ah, he never owned up to bein' the father, but we all knew he was," Kate explained. "Even the sheriff knew. That's why he made it a test of Gisbourne's loyalty."

"I hate the sheriff," Will fumed. "I hate Gisbourne, too."

Robin, still deeply disturbed by the boy's history, turned to Allan. "And you recognize him from the castle?"

"Yeah," Allan said coolly. "Like I said before, he was a castle rat, weren't you, Bat? Remember me? I used to bring you scraps from the kitchens. Of course, I dressed nicer in those days."

Djaq smiled at Allan, pleased to learn he had continued to do Robin's work, even while working for their enemies.

"I wonder if bringing him to work in the castle was Gisbourne's sick way of showing kindness," Much wondered. "He is revolting!"

"Some kindness," Robin scoffed. "What kind of a life is that for a lad, breathing foul air, cleaning up people's waste, being subjected to daily beatings, hardly getting enough to eat? It sounds like what the gallant Sir Guy of Gisbourne would consider kindness, if I believed he had any."

All at once, Robin strode over to Marian and the boy, and then crouched down to meet the boy at his eye level. "Well, Bat," he said kindly, "welcome to Sherwood, my home. Would you like it to be yours for awhile?"

Bat eagerly nodded his head.

Robin grinned, winked at the boy affectionately, smiled lovingly at Marian, then rose and rejoined Much. "Looks like we're taking care of another son belonging to Gisbourne," he quietly sighed. Then, lifting his voice for all to hear, he asked, "What's for dinner, Much? Can't you see our guest is hungry?"

...

Sheriff Vaisey was stroking the bonneted head of his favorite bird of prey, perched on his gloved wrist, while speaking in undertones to his evil lieutenant, Sir Guy of Gisbourne.

"Very good, Gisbourne," Vaisey said, satisfied and eager. "Hood took the bait! He's so predictable! I'm getting rather bored with our little game of cat and mouse. A clue...no."

"The runt's either been rescued by Hood, or eaten by wild animals," Gisbourne affirmed.

"Yes! Very good! It's hard to know which to hope for, hmm, Gisbourne?"

Vaisey laughed and fed his hawk a piece of offal, watching over his bird like an overprotective mother. "A very productive day, wouldn't you say, Gisbourne, hmm? I'll soon have Hood, and you'll have..."

"Marian," Gisbourne breathed, his body tensing and his loins flaming at the thought.


	11. Chapter 11

"More ale?" Much asked Robin late that night, as they stood together jovially around the fire.

"A very worthy idea, my friend!" Robin grinned, reaching to slap Much on his back, but just missing him.

Much chortled as he refilled Robin's forest tankard, and Robin joined in his laughter as the ale overflowed the cup and continued pouring, spilling over its sides onto Robin's hand, to finally splash to the ground at his feet.

"Save some for me, boys," Kate whined with a hiccup, making all three outlaws nearly collapse with laughter.

"I like Bat," Much decided, once he'd recovered from laughing.

Marian had seen fit to have the small boy sleep in her and Robin's private bower, giving her husband no reason to retire early for the night, for once. Robin had helped her prepare a soft bed of moss and heather for the lad, and had stayed to help tuck in the child, even telling him a very thrilling bedtime story, complete with humorous voices and dancing eyebrows, but had departed when Marian started on her second lullaby.

It stung to listen to her sweet voice, knowing that it would never be used to sing to the children they could not have. Hence, the ale, and the merry company of his men, which greatly eased Robin's pain by temporarily banishing his regrets.

Little John belched, and the gang, minus Djaq and Marian, who had sensibly long since gone to bed, laughed so loudly they raised an owl from the treetops, who beat his wings with a furious rush and flew away, seeming to scold them with a noisy chorus of hoots as he went. That surprise only made the men laugh harder.

"Should you be doing that?" Much asked Will, watching the young carpenter whittle meticulously away at a piece of elm. "I mean, you might cut yourself. Your hatchet might slip, and you might chop off a finger!"

"Not bein' funny, but that's not the only thing he might chop off!" Allan jested, somehow managing to look innocent and devious, all at the same time.

"His wife can patch him up, if anything goes awry," Robin decided, trying to soberly dole out his authoritative ruling on the matter.

Will was in no danger. The ale in his tankard lay nearly untasted, for after only a few gulps, he had been inspired with an idea and felt driven to create something marvelous to give to the boy. At least, he modestly hoped it would be marvelous. He'd whittled a flute only once before in his life, and that had been to disguise a weapon to sneak into the sheriff's celebration of the King's birthday. These pipes he was carving now were to give the mute boy some kind of a voice, and needed to provide a variety of notes without requiring the use of a tongue. But Will's brilliant mind and skillful hands were up to the task.

Robin felt the shadow of his unhappiness returning, so he lifted his tankard and drained it in one draught. Not to be outdone, Kate did the same to hers.

Both of them swayed on their feet, and Robin chivalrously reached for the girl, to keep her from falling to the ground. Kate grabbed onto him to steady herself, latching both hands onto his buttcheeks, but the two of them collapsed to the forest floor anyway, Robin falling underneath the small blond.

"Oh, hello, Marian," Robin said with a grin, delighted to see that Marian had decided at that moment to join them. "Is the boy asleep?"

"Miraculously, yes," she spat at him, with a glare so fierce even Little John backed away. "No thanks to you and your riotous gang of drunken revellers! Take your scrawny hands off my husband!" she ordered Kate, pulling the girl off Robin herself, and tossing her body aside like a sack of grain. "And just when are you thinking of coming to bed?" she asked Robin, furiously.

"You look gorgeous, Marian," Robin uttered sentimentally, leaning up on his elbows. "I love you. Have I ever told you that?"

Recalling what she'd seen Matilda do to him earlier that day, Marian leaned over her husband, cuffed him on the side of his head, and said, "Men!"

"What was that for?" Robin asked, looking remarkably boyish in his confusion.

"Come to bed, Handsome," Marian told him, her anger washed away by the innocent look on his face. "I've gotten used to having you near me, and I find I can't sleep anymore without you."

"We should all be getting to bed," Robin told his men, standing and leaning on his wife's arm.

His men grunted their approvals, though Much had already passed out.

"I need to finish this first," Will told them, not looking up from his work.

"Alright," Robin agreed. "Be sure to throw a blanket over Much before you go to bed, will you?"

Will barely nodded and continued whittling. Allan, less drunk than the others, said, "Naw, don't bother. I'll put him to bed. Come on, Idiot," he said to Much, dragging him under his arms toward his bunk, "it's time for slumber."

Little John lumbered toward his own bunk and collapsed face down on top of it. No one seemed to notice Kate, lying in a heap on the leaves, where Marian had tossed her.

...

Once inside their private grove, Robin cast a gentle smile on Bat, who was sleeping peacefully in his new bed.

Marian helped Robin ease himself onto their bed of moss, heather, and leaves, for his body was still sore from the fight he'd had with Gisbourne. Then, on her knees before him, she removed his boots and set them beside the bed.

"I drank too much," Robin admitted, watching her lovingly.

"Really?" Marian asked, rolling her eyes. "Whatever gave you that impression?"

"Seeing you take off my boots like that. I don't want you to have to do that, Marian. I don't want to be that sort of husband."

She lay back contentedly in his arms. "It's only this one time. But if you ever drink so much again, you'll find yourself sleeping alone, do you hear me, Locksley?"

"I love it when you call me that," he murmured, brushing the top of her head with his lips. He closed his eyes and groaned softly as the forest seemed to spin all around him.

Marian sighed and snuggled against the warm hard body she loved so well, listening to the child's soft rhythmic breathing. In no time at all, husband and wife were asleep as well, and peace and contentment reigned within the outlaw camp. No one could have any idea of the threat that secretly loomed over them.


	12. Chapter 12

Robin awoke the following morning alone. Pushing through his head's fogginess from last night's ale, he pulled on his boots and rose to join his gang.

Everyone but Kate was up, which was a good thing. He didn't feel up to listening to Kate's whiney voice this morning.

Robin felt a warm rush go through him as he looked at Marian, with little Bat seated on her lap. What an incredibly beautiful woman he'd married! Seeing her so attentive to the frail child made him smile, yet it was a bittersweet moment as well.

"Good morning, lads," Robin greeted them, sounding brighter than he felt. He silently vowed never to drink so much again.

Much, looking as if he had been dragged from his bunk without benefit of sleep, handed Robin a bowl of pottage without saying a word.

Robin took his bowl to stand by Marian, who looked up at him with a teasing smile that showed she knew just how rotten he must be feeling.

"Robin usually rises with the birds," she told the boy. "Unless, of course, he was out late the night before, on some dangerous mission. What mission did you accomplish last night, dear husband?"

Robin shook his head, laughing under his breath. "A very foolish one," he answered, "not to be undertaken ever again. Right, Much?"

All Much could manage was a groan.

"You finally found a way to shut him up!" Allan proclaimed. "Nice one!"

"That was my intention," Robin joked, then groaned himself.

Noticing the set of wooden pipes Bat was clutching, Robin crouched down and kindly asked, "What do you have there?"

Bat, bursting with pride, lifted them to his lips and blew. By sliding the pipes back and forth over his mouth, he was able to play a variety of notes.

"Will?" Robin asked, amazed.

"Some people preferred being productive last night," Marian teased.

"I wanted to give him a voice," Will said simply.

Djaq, seated beside her husband, could not hold back her pride. "Is it not wonderful?" she asked, amazed.

Robin had to agree. He smiled gratefully at Will.

"I know somewhere you can go and learn to truly play those pipes," Robin mentioned to Bat.

"Go?" Marian gasped. "Why should he go?"

"He can't stay here, Marian. You know that."

"Why not?"

Robin sighed. He could almost see Marian digging in her heels and building up her wall of defense. "Because, my love, it isn't safe for him here."

"It's safer than at the castle."

"I'm not sending him back to the castle. I'm going to take him to the orphanage, just outside Locksley."

Marian's face went pale. She knew that would be the best place for the boy, but she had already grown attached to him, and didn't want to give him up.

"Would you like to go live with other little boys?" Robin asked the child. "The sisters at the orphanage are uncommonly kind, and Sister Margery is musical. She can teach you how to play actual songs on those pipes."

Bat's eyes widened with fear as he snuggled closer to Marian.

"There! You see," Marian said. "He doesn't want to go."

Robin's brow clouded. He didn't want to make Bat nor Marian unhappy. Yet he knew it was for the good of them all. He tried again.

"What if Marian and I take you there, and you can see what it's like? And then, if you decide you want to stay, we'll come visit you regularly. Would you like that?"

Robin's tone was so convincing, Bat almost gave in. But then, he remembered Guy of Gisbourne's threats, and he shuddered and tried to hide by snuggling deeper against Marian.

Marian reluctantly gave in to the soundness of Robin's plan. Gently stroking the boy's unruly hair, she said soothingly, "It's not that we don't want you. It's just, Robin's found a safer place for you to live. A good place, where you'll be loved and cared for. And think of all the fun you'll have, playing with other boys your age. Will you come with us, and see for yourself?"

Despite Gisbourne's orders, Bat felt he couldn't disappoint the beautiful lady. He nodded his head, and was rewarded with one of her lovely smiles.

"Thank you, Marian," Robin told his wife. Handing his empty bowl to Much, he said to his servant, "Get some rest. It's a little unnerving, not hearing you talk."

"It's bloody beautiful!" Allan argued.

Much shot Allan a look, and managed to eke out, "Why don't you just jigger off?"

"Come on, Marian," Robin said, grabbing his bow and grinning, "let's get out of here before this turns ugly."

...

Bat was confused. All he'd ever heard about Robin Hood, living in the castle, had been how dangerous and dastardly he was. He robbed the shire's lords, and caused all sorts of trouble, sending Sheriff Vaisey into explosive rages. The sheriff would take out his anger on Gisbourne, who would take out his anger on his underlings, who would then take out their anger on the servants, who would lastly take out their anger on him. Every beating he'd ever received, Gisbourne had sneered at him, had all been due to Hood.

But Bat was seeing a different man. This man was kind and winning, who grinned like a boy and seemed to genuinely be bursting with the joy of living. This man offered to run a race with him on their way to the orphanage, and even let him win. This man laughed so infectiously you couldn't help but smile back, and told thrilling and funny stories, and shared his food. This man carried him on his shoulders when his little legs grew too tired to walk.

And as for the lady! Bat had never known anyone so beautiful nor kind before. Bat could not remember his mother, and he was entirely won over by Marian with her loving and gentle ways.

The three were lying on their bellies on the hilltop overlooking Locksley, scouting to see whether Gisbourne or his men were home. Villagers were outdoors, busy at their daily tasks, which told Robin it would be safe to make a quick stop before venturing on to the orphanage. Cautiously, Robin led the way into his village.

Everyone was thrilled to see him and Marian. But those who remembered Bat were vastly surprised.

"Lydia's shame!" Kate's sour mother Rebecca croaked. "What're you two doing with him?"

"He's nobody's shame," Marian scolded. "He's a wonderful boy."

"He's got Gisbourne blood in him! That's enough to shame anyone!"

"He's my friend," Robin said, in a tone so commanding, no one dared argue. "And I'd like him to be yours, too, from now on. Lady Marian and I are taking him to the orphanage, and those of you who can, I'd like you to look in on him from time to time. He belongs to all of us, being a part of our village."

The serfs bowed their heads in unison to Robin before embracing him, warmed to the bottom of their hearts to hear their beloved true master's words.

Robin and Marian led the boy from cottage to cottage, and Bat was amazed to watch all the good they did for the poor. In one cottage, an elderly man and his wife were unwell, and Robin scrubbed while Marian swept, and both listened patiently as the old couple repeated stories Robin had heard on numerous visits. Before they'd left, they'd made a broth, and spooned it into the old people's mouths. In another cottage, Robin held a new baby, while Marian gripped Bat's hand and looked away, trying to hide a solitary tear, then all three sat on the floor of the cottage and played games with the older children, to give the mother a chance to rest while her baby slept. They stayed and cooked dinner from the food they themselves provided, before saying goodbye.

And so it went, as Bat became more and more confused, but enamored of both Robin and Marian.

At last, Robin decided it was time to leave Locksley. Even Bat could see there was a touch of sadness in his eyes when he declared it time to go.

Marian gently squeezed her husband's hand. "We'll be back for good one day," she told him confidently. "We'll get the ransom money, and free the King, and he'll return and restore Locksley to you."

"And to you," Robin said gratefully. "It's your village now, too, Marian." He could not resist taking her in his arms and kissing her.

Eyes shining with joy again, Robin led Bat and Marian toward the orphanage. Bat was wondering what he should do, since he had not yet finished what Gisbourne had ordered him to do.

But he found he did not need to decide. When they arrived at the orphanage, they were met by a nun who forbid them to draw near.

"I'm sorry, Robin," she told them. "The children are in quarantine. They've got a case of a pox. Not a deadly one, but a nasty pox all the same. I'm stationed here to stop all visitors from drawing any closer."

"Can we bring you anything? Any food or medicine?" Robin asked.

"We don't need a thing, saints be praised! Just offer up a prayer for the children. They pray for you and your men every night before they go to sleep."

"I thank them. Tell them Robin Hood and his men are praying for them, and I expect them to hurry and get well, so I can drop by and give them all another archery lesson."

"They live for your visits. I'll tell them. Now be off before Gisbourne's men see you! "

...

"Well, Marian," Robin teased to his wife, as they headed back to Sherwood, "looks like you'll get to keep Bat a week or so longer! How does that suit you, my love?"

Marian only smiled. Words could not express how happy she felt.

Bat was happy, too, and relieved. He was enjoying riding "piggy back" on Robin, and he refused to think about Sir Guy of Gisbourne's demands. If the children in the orphanage could expect answers to their prayers, then so could he. He would pray that he wouldn't have to do what Gisbourne had ordered. Then, remembering he had no tongue, and therefore no voice he felt God could understand, he despaired again.

"And now," Robin said, not realizing the boy's distress as he turned his mind to his outlaw duties, "I need to have a word with Allan about turning traitor again, once we reach camp."

Marian froze. "Allan's no traitor, Robin," she argued. "I'd risk my life of it."

Robin snickered. "Of course he's no traitor! And anyway, you won't have to. Don't you know by now, that's my job?"

Marian gasped, worried out of her mind over what Robin might be planning.


	13. Chapter 13

Not realizing that Robin was just about to employ him on a highly dangerous mission, Allan greeted the returning trio warmly. "You brought him back!" he said, referring to Bat. "What's the matter? Robin give in to Marian again?"

Robin shot Allan a look of confusion. He wasn't ruled by his wife! Well, not often enough to mock him about it, anyway.

Marian, knowing better, smiled. "The orphanage is under quarantine," she explained.

Immediately, Djaq jumped to her feet. "Robin, can I help?"

"It's not serious," he explained. "Besides, you shouldn't be exposing yourself to contagion, not now." He turned to wink at Will, unknowingly saddening Marian. Instinctively, she wrapped her arm around Bat's small shoulder.

"Great!" Allan said, wanting to torment Much for all the foul singing he'd performed last night. "Bat's still got his pipes! What we need around here, is some music!"

"Since when have you been a music lover, Allan?" Robin asked.

"Haven't you heard the songs about us? Not bein' funny, but for some reason, they always claim I'm musical. Now, a rousing song is just the thing we need to make Much's head feel better, and I know a good one they sing at the Trip. You know the one called 'Women' ?"

"I doubt it's a song I'd approve of for Bat to hear," Marian said, somehow appearing pleasant, even while scolding.

"Naw! It's lovely! It even mentions Robin!"

"Me?"

"Yeah."

Marian raised her eyebrows. "All the more reason for you not to sing it," she warned.

"Don't worry, I won't sing," Allan cajoled. "I'll just say the words, then, if Bat knows it, he can play it on his pipes. Good and loud, right over here next to Much! Ready? Here's how it goes!

'Women, women, we love women  
>Good at emptying a man's purse<br>Some are prudish as a nun  
>Yet all they be not so.<br>Some are lewd, Some are shrewd,  
>Go, shrews, where you go.' "<p>

Robin stopped him with a commanding gesture. Leaning on his bow, he said, "Your song doesn't sound like it honors women, Allan."

"No? It says we love 'em. Come on, it gets better."

"I suppose it will be alright," Marian said, curious about where her husband might feature in a bawdy song concerning women. "I can always put my hands over Bat's ears."

"Naw, you won't have to," Allan assured her. "Tell you what. I'll leave out the bits not fit for tender ears, alright? Here's the rest:

'Some can whisper and some can lie  
>And some can set the monk awry.<br>Yet all they be not so.  
>Some are lewd, Some are shrewd,<br>Go, shrews, where you go.

'Some put out without hire  
>And some make hay in every shire<br>And some only do it with the Sire.  
>Yet all they be not so.<br>Some are lewd, Some are shrewd,  
>Go, shrews, where you go.' "<p>

Marian had placed her hands over Bat's ears. "You said you'd leave out the bad bits!" she accused.

"I did," Allan said.

"We've heard enough tavern songs," Robin told him. "I need to talk to you about-"

"We haven't heard the part about you, Robin," Marian interrupted. "Aren't you the least bit curious about how you enter in with all these lewd and shrewd women in Allan's song?"

"Not bein' funny, but if Robin doesn't know how to 'enter in' by now, you need to find yourself a new husband!"

Without warning, Robin seized and twisted one of Allan's arms behind his back, and held his other hand to his throat, completely disabling him.

"Whoa!" Allan cried. "I was only joking!"

"Robin, let him go!"

"When are you ever going to learn to treat my wife with respect?" Robin demanded.

"It's alright," Marian soothed her enraged husband. "He means no harm. Admit it, Robin. If I weren't here, you'd find his song amusing."

"Hardly."

"You would. I know you. But you seem to forget how much I was exposed to, living in the castle. I'm not so easily offended as you think me."

Slowly, Robin saw reason and released Allan.

"Can you all just SHUT UP?" Much cried from his bunk. The surprise from his words instantly made Robin return to his usual, friendly self.

"Sorry," he said to Allan. "I only want you to respect my wife."

"I do respect her. I like her, too, and that's why I joke with her. You shouldn't take offense. Makes me wonder if you've got something to hide."

"He doesn't," Marian said, taking Robin's arm. "Not that it's any business of yours. Now, will you tell us the part of the song that mentions Robin?"

"Aw, it's not much. Just at the end, it says the writer of the song must be kin to Robin Hood, 'cause he knows so many women so well."

Marian dropped Robin's arm and turned on him.

"I don't!" Robin cried. Pointing a finger at Allan, he said, "No more songs!"

"Now you see what I have to put up with?" Much moaned from his bunk.

Robin wouldn't let Allan's humor stand in the way of their mission any longer. "I need to speak to you," he told his friend. "I have a job for you, if you'll agree. But I warn you, it will be dangerous."

"Yeah? What is it?"

Robin glanced over his shoulder at Marian. She appeared completely absorbed in listening to Bat blow on his pipes. He failed, however, to take into account how sharp her ears had become, from her days as a castle spy.

Marian was listening to every word Robin spoke to Allan a Dale.

"If we can pull this off," Robin was saying, "we might have enough silver to pay the King's ransom!"

"The King? You mean the one who strung us up in the desert and rode away, expectin' we'd die? Not bein' funny, but why do we want to save him?"

Robin blinked his eyes in surprise. He simply could not understand Allan's point.

**(Note: Allan's song is an actual medieval song called Women, and it truly does mention Robin Hood in the final stanza. I omitted several stanzas, and only slightly changed the lyrics, so they might be understood).**


	14. Chapter 14

"Why should you save the King?"

Dumbfounded, Robin repeated Allan's own question to him. "Because, Allan," he responded at last, as if the answer were obvious, "he's our King."

Allan smiled casually back. "Not bein' funny, but if Vaisey was King, would you risk your neck to save him?"

"He couldn't be," Robin said impatiently, still not understanding. "Richard is ordained by God to rule over us. The Archbishop of Canterbury anointed him and placed the crown on his head. I was there! I saw it!"

"Yeah. Well, a sprinkle of oil and a metal hat with a hole through its middle isn't worth us dyin', in my opinion. Sure, if Richard the Lion Fart comes back, you'll be a lord again, so I see why you're so eager to free him. But what about me, oi? What am I gonna have, besides a pardon?"

Robin let Allan's "Lion Fart" comment go, much as he objected to its blatant disrespect. He tried to understand Allan's point of view, but his blind devotion to the King made it extremely difficult.

"I hope you're not counting on that pardon," he said. "I know I'm not."

"What?" Despite trying to appear as though she hadn't been listening, Marian could not hide her surprise. She quickly left Bat's side and approached her husband. "Robin, what do you mean you're not counting on a pardon?"

"Yeah," Allan agreed, just as surprised as Marian. "You mean, after all this, there's a chance Richard Bloody Lion Fart won't pardon us? Not even you?"

"Especially not me," Robin said. "Think about it. Would you be an outlaw, if it weren't for me?"

"I'd be dead if it weren't for you," Allan admitted. "Will, too. But come on, you know the King will give you Locksley back, and all your other titles."

Robin didn't say anything, causing Marian to grow agitated. Looking her husband directly in his eyes, she asked, "He will, Robin, won't he?"

"We can only hope," Robin said, lovingly taking Marian's hands in his.

"But, Robin!" she cried. "After everything you've done to serve him! After everything you've given up! He has to pardon you!"

"He's caprious," Robin said simply. "It'll all depend on his mood. If the hunting's good, or he manages to compose a song without too much trouble, he'll remember me fondly, and grant us all pardons. But if John inspires his pity and family devotion, he might just blame me for upsetting the Prince, and we'll all still be outlaws."

"Bloody hell, we will!" Allan swore. "And as for thinkin' I'd risk my neck for him, not bloody likely! Ask Much to take part in your plan, not me! He'll do anything you say, just because it's you sayin' it."

Allan was angrier than Robin had ever seen him before. He strode away, then returned almost immediately. Pointing his finger in Robin's face, he shouted, "And all this time, I coulda sworn Much was the idiot! I was wrong! It's you, Robin! You're the fool, to follow such a bleedin' King!"

"He's a noble King, Allan," Robin told him, with calm dignity. "A great man, and an even greater warrior. But even he's not perfect."

Robin decided it best to give Allan some time to cool off. Besides, Marian was clearly upset, and he wanted to calm her before presenting his plan to Allan.

"Ride with me?" he asked his wife, tenderly tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

Marian nodded, and soon, she had both arms around Robin as they galloped madly away from camp on a single horse.

When the horse showed signs of tiring, Robin drew reign and leaped to the ground. Marian immediately followed.

"I sent my emerald engagement ring to pay his ransom," she said, her voice sounding angry and bitter. "I gave _you_ away to him, to help him fight his war. I stood in the path of Gisbourne's sword to save him, and our baby died because of it. And now you tell me, he won't pardon you?"

"I didn't say that. I only said there's a chance he won't. It's not guaranteed."

There was a pause, while Robin let Marian digest the information.

A sudden terrible thought entered Robin's mind, and he asked, "You're not sorry you married me, are you, Marian?"

"Oh, Robin!"

Almost immediately, Marian was in his arms. "Oh, my love," she cried, kissing his face and neck, "Oh, my husband! My sweet, sweet husband!"

Words were not needed when kisses more accurately expressed the depth of her feelings.

"Can we let Bat sleep in one of the bunks?" Robin asked her passionately. "I need to be alone with you."

"Before you go get yourself killed, you mean?"

"I won't. I never do. But I need you, Marian." He paused, searching for the words to convey how full his heart was. "When I raise my bow," he explained, "I hardly know where it ends and I begin. I need to feel that with you."

"Yes," she breathed. "I need that, too."

Their mutual desire threatened to make them give in to what their bodies craved before they made it back to camp, but they stopped their kisses and pulled apart when they first felt, and then heard, the rumble of hoofbeats.

"Oh! There you are!" Much called cheerfully to them, from astride his horse. "It's lucky I found you here! Allan said he's ready to listen to your plan."


	15. Chapter 15

Allan didn't want to say why he was agreeing to listen to Robin's plan. In truth, he felt his reasons made him no different than Much, and that was a comparison he'd rather not consider.

He was doing it, pure and simple, for Robin.

Time and time again, Robin's acts of selfless courage impressed him, making him long to be a better man. No one would ever catch him admitting it, but it was true, nonetheless. And if Robin could risk his neck to try and rescue Allan's brother Tom, then the very least Allan could do was to consider Robin's plan to rescue King Richard.

"Alright, lads," Robin said, gathering all his men around him, "here's my plan."

The twinkle in Robin's eyes told his men it was bound to be good. Only Marian, Much, and Allan seemed wary of what they were about to hear.

"Does anyone know how large the reward is for my capture?" Robin asked them.

No one knew exactly how high the bounty had climbed, but it was a substantial sum.

"I propose," Robin continued, smiling, "we collect that money ourselves."

"But Master," Much objected, "how can we do that? I mean, the only way to collect it is to turn you in to the sheriff, and surely you're not proposing..."

Much floundered, growing anxious by Robin's widening grin.

"Oh, no!" Much cried. "Robin, surely not! You can't turn yourself in, again!"

"I'm not going to," Robin assured him.

Much breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I must say, I am glad. Because, for a minute there, I thought-"

"Allan's going to do it."

"What?"

"Who, me?"

"You can't be serious!"

Robin's men expressed their surprise in one voice. Marian alone, was silent, but Bat, sitting on her lap, felt her body stiffen. The small boy didn't understand what Robin Hood was saying, but he didn't like how the outlaw's words made Marian bite her lower lip and look so miserable.

"Here's what we do," Robin explained. "Tonight, when Vaisey's asleep, Allan here will break into his chamber to pay him a visit."

"You mean, you want me to share some pillow talk with the sheriff? Not bein' funny, but I'd sooner skip that step and head straight for the gallows. The thought of it bein' just me, Vaisey, and his birds, in the dark of night, is worse than death."

"You won't be alone."

"No?"

"I'll be there with you."

"Oh, that's comforting."

"Yes," Robin said, his eyes alight with mischief, and determination.

"And Allan just leaves you there with the sheriff, and walks away with the reward?" Much asked, flabbergasted. "And just how do _you_ plan to escape?"

"Just calm down, Much," Robin said. "He won't turn me in, not tonight anyway. Vaisey'd just lock us both up, if that were my plan."

"Glad to hear you're talkin' sense," Allan said, with sarcasm.

"No," Robin continued. "Tonight, Allan just feels him out-"

"Whoa! I'm not feelin' any part of him!"

"What I mean is, you just pay him a visit, holding your dagger to his throat, of course-"

"Of course."

"-and let him know you want that reward money. Agree to an exchange, without actually making it."

"What's your part in this?"

"I'll be disguised as a guard right outside the door, in case he suspects a trap and orders you arrested."

Allan breathed a slow, contemplative sigh. "It might work," he admitted. "But how are we gonna get the money? He's not gonna hand it over, until he has your 'pretty little head attached to your pretty little body.' "

When the outlaws threw Allan questioning looks, he threw up his hands and cried, "Not my words! Vaisey's! Not bein' funny, Robin, but he fancies you."

Everyone looked as though they might be sick, Robin more so than any of them.

"Moving on," Robin hastily continued, "you let me work out the details of the exchange. It won't happen tonight. Tonight, we just lay the groundwork."

"I'm in," Allan agreed, "so long as you swear to be right outside the door."

"Good," Robin grinned, his eyes alight with the thrill of danger. "We'll go after midnight."

"Master, what do I do?" Much asked.

"And me?"

Marian's voice was cold, her face drained of color.

Robin's grin faded as he studied his wife's unhappy face. Now, he feared, he'd need another plan, one designed just to keep her in camp.


	16. Chapter 16

"I don't like this. I hate it! I hate waiting! When is Robin going to return? What if the sheriff guesses? What if-"

"Shut up!" Little John growled.

Much couldn't stop ranting as he paced around the fire pit in the outlaw camp. He couldn't stop worrying about Robin, who had led Allan to Nottingham Castle on a mission to trick the sheriff into believing Allan had turned traitor again so they could collect the bounty on Robin's head.

"I don't like it, either," Kate complained in her sour way. "Why does it have to be Robin who takes the risks? If anything happens to him, I'll-"

Djaq glared as the young blond dissolved into tears, then turned kind and understanding eyes on Marian, whose pale face and unblinking eyes betrayed her anxiety for her husband's safety. With words meant to ease the fears of both Marian and Much, the Saracen counselled, "Trust our leader. Robin always finds a way."

"It's a brilliant plan," Will added, his voice and manner cool, confident, and rational.

"Maybe," Much admitted. "But why take Allan? Why not take me?"

The corners of Djaq's mouth turned up, ever so slightly. "The sheriff would never believe you would turn Robin in, would he?"

Much thought hard for a moment. "No, I suppose not. But Allan! He's sure to ruin things. You've heard him lie! You'd think, with all the practice he's had lying, he'd be good at it!"

Little John rose to his feet and loomed over Much. "Shut up," he growled again, for Marian's sake.

"Well, excuse me for being concerned! Excuse me for caring!" With what was meant to be a single swipe of his hand, Much tried to debonairly flip his cape over his shoulder, but struggled violently as he found himself entangled in its folds. Huffing in exasperation, he trod away, only to return moments later, looking crestfallen as he resumed his anxious ravings.

Marian tried to remain calm by focusing her attention on Bat, who lay sleeping peacefully on one of the bunks. Only four of the six bunks Will had built for the outlaw camp were in use, due to the two married couples choosing to sleep away from the others in relative privacy. Bat had been excited to select an upper bunk and rested there now, undisturbed by Much's frantic ramblings.

Kate, ignored by the others, dried her tears and threatened, "If Robin dies, I'm leaving. I don't care where I go, but I won't stay here with you lot if he's dead."

No one said a word in response. If only there were a better way to get rid of her, one that didn't involve Robin's demise!

Suddenly, Kate took off like a whirlwind, shoving a pregnant Djaq out of her way. She'd spied Robin returning with Allan, and upon reaching him, hurtled herself against his body with all the full force her small running frame could muster.

The impact of her collision was stronger than anyone might have guessed, merely from looking at her. Robin staggered backward a step, then regained his footing and his breath.

"You're back! You're back! You're back!" Kate whined, resting her head on his chest, as if she belonged there.

Gently, Robin removed the clinging girl from him, and soberly greeted his wife and men.

"You're unhurt?" Much asked anxiously, noticing how Robin was missing his customary swagger.

"I'm fine, Much," Robin assured him. "But I need to think."

Without another word, Robin headed straight toward the glade where he and Marian slept. Marian followed. Kate stared after them, simmering with jealousy.

"What happened, Allan?" Djaq asked. "Did Robin's plan not work?"

"Not bein' funny, but the sheriff wasn't biting. Said he didn't need me to turn Robin in. Claimed he had another plan in place to capture 'Little Robin Red Breast.' "

...

Watching Robin as he appeared lost in thought, Marian remained quiet, waiting for him to unburden his troubles. Unable to remain patient for long, at last she sat down beside him and softly asked, "Robin, what happened?"

Looking deeply into her beautiful eyes, he asked, "How do you suppose a small, innocent, mute boy could turn me in to the sheriff?"

"What?"

Robin didn't respond, other than to continue staring into her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous," Marian said at last. "Bat has nothing to do with the sheriff."

"Not deliberately. But from here on out, I don't want you being alone with him."

Marian's impatience was increasing. "Robin, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Robin stood and began to pace. Just when Marian thought she couldn't take any more of his silence, he began to speak.

"Everything went according to plan, at first," he began. "We broke into the castle, easily overpowered two guards, stole their uniforms and made certain they wouldn't awaken any time soon, then talked our way into relieving the two guards stationed outside Vaisey's room. Allan ditched his uniform and went inside. I listened, just outside the door, and Vaisey was his usual snide self, after his initial shock died down. Allan presented his terms, and then-"

He paused, as if trying to grasp the unthinkable.

"Go on," Marian invited. "And then?"

Robin turned and faced his wife. "And then," he continued, "Vaisey laughed in Allan's face. He said Allan was too late; that he already had a plan in place to catch me. And after that, he shouted for his guard to arrest Allan. I charged in, pretended to take hold of Allan, but the sheriff recognized me as we were walking away."

Marian cringed. She knew just where Vaisey's eyes had lingered, causing him to recognize her husband, and it wasn't Robin's bold, blue, beautiful eyes that had given him away.

"What happened next?" she asked, gulping.

"All hel-forgive me. Chaos broke out," he told her. "Vaisey shrieked louder, guards emerged from out of the woodwork, and Allan and I had to fight our way through them."

"Was anyone killed?" she asked, breathing a silent prayer of thanks that the two men had returned unscathed.

"Thankfully, no. I took a scratch or two."

"Let me see."

Robin carefully removed his shirt, and Marian drew her breath in sharply at the sight of two deep, bloody scratches in Robin's side.

"Don't move," she ordered him. "I need to clean your wounds."

"They're only scratches," he objected.

"Don't move," she repeated sternly.

While she was gone to fetch clean water, Robin turned his thoughts again to his suspicion that the sheriff had somehow planted Bat in his camp, for the purpose of capturing him. He held nothing against the child. If anything, his suspicions only served to make him more sympathetic toward the boy. "What did that monster threaten to do to you, if you didn't go along with his plan?" he thought to himself.

Marian returned with a bowl of clean, clear water, and set to work dabbing her husband's wounds. "I don't see how you can suspect Bat, just from the sheriff saying he had another plan. It could be anything, Robin!"

As Robin began to enjoy Marian's touch and her close proximity, his mood quickly shifted. "I'll ask him point blank tomorrow," he decided. "He can nod his head yes or no, and I think he trusts us enough to tell us the truth. At least, he trusts you. Who wouldn't be smitten, by the beautiful Lady Marian?"

He surprised her by catching her lips with his own, and the basin of water, the plan gone awry, and the sheriff's evil scheme was temporarily forgotten in the joy and pleasure the two of them always discovered in each other.


	17. Chapter 17

Guy of Gisbourne seethed as he strode up the castle steps toward Sheriff Vaisey's private chambers. The sheriff better have a good reason for having him dragged out of bed and ordered here, all the way from Locksley, so early in the morning.

Gisbourne stopped just as he reached the top of the stairs. What if-no. Vaisey had long ago ceased to "fancy" him, and only used him that way now as a means of punishment and control. There was bound to be another reason for this predawn summons.

What if the sheriff was close to capturing Hood? What if the runt had returned from the forest, ready to lead them to Hood's camp? Gisbourne broke into a run, then charged into Vaisey's room.

Vaisey was up, though still dressed in his black silk nightclothes. Over them, he wore a flowing black sleeveless robe, trimmed in fluffy black feathers. Gisbourne couldn't hide the sneer on his lips.

"Ah! Gisbourne!" the sheriff crowed. "Very good! You're just in time!"

"In time for what, my lord?"

"You're just in time to help me paint my toenails. Well, don't just stand there scowling like a fishwife! Bring me my things!"

Gisbourne seethed anew, more strongly than he had when he made the journey to Nottingham. "My lord, with all respect, you didn't bring me here solely to help you paint your nails!"

"No? How well you know me, Gisbourne! No, indeed. Let's just say I have a bit of news that might interest you, hmm?"

Gisbourne felt the back of his neck begin to prickle with excitement. Of course, this involved Hood! Obediantly, he fetched the sheriff's black paint, small brush, and cloth, which he used to carefully wipe any paint that chanced to run off the sheriff's toenails, onto his toes.

"What do you think, Gisbourne, hmm? Shall we apply one or two coats today? I think two. What do you think?"

Gisbourne knew the sheriff was toying with him, forcing him to wait to hear the news. He wanted to place his strong hands around the sheriff's throat and squeeze the life from him. But he refrained, knowing the sheriff was his pathway to power and position.

"My lord," he begged impatiently, "what news do you have?"

Vaisey clicked his tongue. "Tsk, tsk, Gisbourne. Always so impatient! No wonder the Leper chose Hood over you. Robin Hood knows, just like shooting an arrow, the way to achieve pleasure in a woman involves skill and patience, not your customary rushed flounderings."

"WHAT NEWS?" Gisbourne's face was turning purple, and a vein stood out on his forehead, visably throbbing.

"Oh! Did I strike a nerve, hmm? Hate to picture Marian and Hood, in the throes, shall we say? Well, grow up, Gisbourne! You're not alone, you know."

Gisbourne gulped, then sneered, knowing the sheriff meant himself, though not because of Marian.

"I ask you again, my lord, what news?"

Vaisey paused, squinting as he inspected the toenails on one foot. "That should do," he said, beginning on the other foot. "You were saying, Gisbourne, hmm? Oh, yes! My news!" He paused again, enjoying Gisbourne's increasing discomfort.

Without warning, he handed the paintbrush to Gisbourne and said, "Why don't you have a turn at painting my nails, Gisbourne? Go on! If you mess up, I won't bite! Not hard, anyway." His laughter made Gisbourne long to kill him again.

Gisbourne angrily dipped the brush into the vial of black paint, and tenatively applied it to the sheriff's big toe. While he was dabbing on the paint, the sheriff suddenly blurted out, "Your boy paid me a secret midnight visit. Did you know that Gisbourne, hmm?"

In his surprise, Gisbourne hand slipped, and paint streaked onto Vaisey's foot.

"You buffoon!" Vaisey shrieked, standing and slapping Gisbourne across his face. "It seems I can't trust you for anything!"

Gisbourne dropped to one knee. "My lord sheriff, believe me, you can trust me. I am your most loyal servant. I would do anything for-"

"Well la dee dah dee dah! Get up, Gisbourne. No sense in grovelling. Not when only my birds are here to see it, anyway. No! No! Much better for you to grovel in front of scores of witnesses, hmm? Perhaps, even, your Leper Friend."

"She's no longer my friend, my lord."

"Yes. But was she ever? A clue...no. She used you, Guy. She used you over and over again, to feed our little secrets to her lover, Hood! Don't say I didn't warn you. Lepers, Gisbourne. Lepers."

Gisbourne felt himself spiralling out of control. He could do nothing but visualize himself murdering Robin Hood, stabbing him through with his swordblade over and over again.

"Forgotten your boy already? Tsk, tsk, Gisbourne! Let's hope your loyalty to me runs deeper, or I might need to replace you!"

"My lord, do not question my loyalty to you! What about Allan?"

"Ah! Allan! Well, wipe your mess off my foot, Gisbourne, and I'll tell you everything! And then, think about how delicious it will be, when Bat the Brat returns, and leads us straight to Hood and his band of scurvy outlaws! What delightful methods I'm cooking up to kill them! Oh, this is good! This is good!"


	18. Chapter 18

In dawn's soft pale light, Robin and Marian were enjoying early morning kisses and playful fondling before they rose, or more accurately, before Much could interrupt them with his calls to come eat breakfast.

"You know you broke your word to me, Robin of Locksley," Marian whispered playfully in his ear.

"I swear I never did." Robin pulled slightly away as he stretched his thoughts to try and remember a time when he'd failed to keep his word to Marian.

"No," he said at last, nibbling away at her shoulder mole. "You must be confusing me with one of your other hapless suitors."

"It was you. Think back to when we were children."

Robin lay back, thinking. "How can I think," he asked at last, "when you're so distractedly naked?"

"I can fix that."

"No. Not yet. Tell me how I broke my word when we were young, and give me a chance to make it up to you now."

He rolled on top of her and began kissing her in earnest. When her mouth became free again, she teased him, "We weren't children when you broke your word. That was when you made me the promise."

"Does it involve what we're doing now?"

"It does."

"Then I was a stupid boy, and you can't hold me to it."

"You weren't stupid, only honorable. Do you remember how I always got into trouble for coming home with muddy gowns, until you came up with a plan for me to change into a suit of your clothing, every time we went on one of our outings in the forest?"

"I remember how adorable you looked, dressed like a boy. Little did I know my clever plan would be responsible for you later becoming the Nightwatchman."

Marian pulled away, angry all at once. "You had nothing to do with that! That was all my idea!"

"And a very brave and noble one it was, too," he said, soothing her temper. "Now, tell me what I promised you so long ago."

Marian ran a finger slowly over his cheek and jawline. "You only swore you wouldn't look while I changed clothes. You promised me you'd never even peek."

"I never did, but times have changed for the better, wouldn't you agree?"

He was so irresistibly attractive to her, she showed him just how much she agreed. But then, as if on cue, Much's voice broke through their mood.

"Master! Breakfast!"

"Are you going to speak with him again?" Marian asked.

"Of course! I'll have a word with him right after I talk to Bat."

"Be careful with the boy. He's sensitive."

"And Much isn't?"

Marian rolled her eyes. "Be careful with them both," she answered.


	19. Chapter 19

Watching Robin with Bat, Marian realized she hadn't needed to counsel her husband about treating the boy with care. Robin had a way with children, a clear and definite gift, and they responded to him with almost worshipful awe.

His eyes and voice were so gentle, so caring, Bat felt entirely safe and valued.

"Now," Robin said to the boy, before all his men, "don't be frightened. I need to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer me truthfully. You won't be in trouble. I give you my word."

Bat nodded his head, completely trusting the noble archer.

"Did the sheriff send you here?"

"What? Oh, Master, surely not!" Much flung down his cooking spoon in exasperation, then turned bulging, accusing eyes on the boy.

Robin held up a hand and shushed his friend. "Tell me the truth, Bat. No one," and he threw Much a stern look, "will blame you."

Bat looked trustingly into Robin's eyes, and gently shook his head.

Much breathed out a sigh of relief. "Well, I must say, I am glad! For a minute there, I thought-"

"Who, then?" Robin asked. "Was it Gisbourne?"

Looking ashamed, Bat nodded his head.

"Unbelievable!" Much cried. "We took him in!"

"Don't upset the boy," Marian warned firmly.

"I'm not! It's just...just...Gisbourne? Unbelievable!"

"Gisbourne's not clever enough to act on his own," Robin said, thinking aloud. "The sheriff was behind this, too. What was their plan? Were you to lead them to the camp, or lead me to them?"

Bat's eyes spilled over with tears.

"It's alright," Robin said kindly, reaching for the boy and setting him on his knee. "You're not to blame. You don't have to tell me any more today. Just promise me you won't leave us. Do we have a deal?"

Bat nodded eagerly, his little face shining with delight.

"Well, then," Robin grinned, gently tousling the boy's hair, "Will? Make Bat his own outlaw tag. Looks like we have a new member of the gang!"

"Make me one, too, while you're at it," Marian smiled.

Robin set the boy down, then rose and removed his own tag from around his neck. Smiling lovingly at his wife, he hung it around her neck.

"About time you recognized me as a member," Marian teased him, actually very touched by his gesture. She couldn't be any happier if he'd placed a necklace of precious gemstones around her neck.

"And," Robin continued, "we need to get a child's bow and arrows. Marian and I are going to teach you how to shoot. Would you like that?"

Bat nodded eagerly, with excitement.

"Good idea," Allan scoffed. "Put a weapon in his hands, and teach him to use it! Not bein' funny, but is that-"

Robin stopped him with commanding look. "Bat's one of us now, lads, and I expect you to treat him just like any other member of the gang."

Marian flung her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him soundly.

"There's something else we can teach him," she added. "If he's taught his letters, he could learn to write...to express himself."

Robin smiled thankfully. "That's genius, Marian!"

"Djaq could teach him," Will volunteered. "She taught me."

Robin turned to face the Saracen. "What about it, Djaq?" he asked. "Are you willing?"

Djaq smiled. "It will keep me busy, while you take part in adventures." She placed a hand over her expanding abdomen. "Now, Bat," she said, picking up a stick and sketching the letter "A" in the dust. "This is 'A'. Ah, ah, ah, A. Can you draw it, too?"

Little Bat did his best at copying what she'd written. Will nodded his head in satisfaction and began whittling two new outlaw tags.

For a short while, Much watched the lesson, but his head soon grew tired, and he marched away to clean his "kitchen."

"Unbelievable!" he muttered, under his breath. "I don't like this! Robin's putting himself in danger, I know it!"


	20. Chapter 20

"Has anyone seen my quiver?" Robin asked, eager to begin teaching Bat archery.

As usual, Allan was ready with a bawdy response. "Not bein' funny, but if you haven't shown it to Marian yet," he jested, "it's no wonder she hasn't got a bun in the oven!"

Marian tried to hide her injured feelings, excusing Allan for being ignorant of her inability to have a child, but Robin saw the color drain from her face, and his anger flared. With wild eyes, he seized Allan by his throat and shoved him up against a treetrunk.

"What have I told you about treating my wife with respect?" he asked, his teeth clenched tightly together.

Allan couldn't breathe.

"Robin, release him," Marian demanded, alarmed by her husband's anger. "He meant no harm."

Reluctantly, Robin let him go. "Never," he warned his friend, pointing a finger in his face, "let me hear you say that again."

Allan took in deep gulps of air. He was quickly losing patience with Robin for attacking him every time he made a joke, especially when the outlaw leader used to enjoy his jests. Well, most of them, anyway.

"If I wanted abuse, I'd of stayed with Gisbourne," he muttered.

"Well, why don't you go back to him then?" Kate whined.

"Here it is," Much called, scurrying to the rescue with Robin's quiver in his hands.

"Thank you." Robin couldn't shake off his anger, still detecting the hurt in Marian's eyes. But he saw her give him a brave smile, and somehow, just holding his bow and strapping on his quiver made him feel better. Ready at last, he held out his free hand and broke into a grin when Bat took it before Marian could. Marian's eyes met his without any sign of sorrow, as she took hold of Bat's other hand.

Hand in hand, the three set off for the meadow to begin Bat's first archery lesson.

"Why Marian?" Much asked, sadly watching Robin leave. "You taught me to shoot, too. Why not me?"

...

Bat was struggling to try his best to please the wonderfully kind man and woman who were teaching him to shoot, but it was harder than it looked. He found it difficult just to keep the arrow aligned on his bow before he even pulled back the bowstring. But his teachers were being very patient and approving, and it was exciting to watch Robin shoot.

Noticing how tired the boy looked, Marian suggested they rest. Living the way he had, Bat's health was delicate, but Robin bragged he'd grow soon grow sturdy, breathing the fresh air of Sherwood. Marian felt some fresh cream wouldn't hurt, either.

She sat down with Bat under the shade of a spreading chestnut tree, while Robin continued showing off with his bow. Marian rolled her eyes, yet she secretly found watching her husband shoot almost as exciting as Bat did.

"Pick a target," Robin said. "Anything at all, and watch me hit it."

"A cloud," Marian teased.

"Was I asking you?" Robin asked, grinning. "Anything but a cloud, Bat. What would you like to see me aim for?"

Bat looked all around the meadow, trying to decide.

"Robin of Locksley, you're hardly practicing what you preach," Marian scolded, with a smile. "Didn't I just hear you tell Bat to shoot for the beauty of it alone, not to show off your skill?"

"I am! It's a thing of beauty to hit a target!"

"So you're not showing off?"

"Now, where would be the fun in that?"

Bat was munching on some bread, cheese, and berries Marian had unwrapped and given him. He was having more fun than he'd ever had in his life. While he was still trying to select a target, he saw Robin snap to attention and hold up a warning hand.

"Take cover," Robin warned. "We're not alone."

Before Marian could react, a rough male voice roared, "Drop your weapons! Look, men, we caught Robin Hood!"

A loud chorus of whoops informed Robin they were surrounded by a group of at least twelve men. And he and Marian only had two arrows between them, having shot all the rest in the archery lesson.

He had no fear for himself. His concerns lay only for the safety of Marian and the boy. He prayed Marian would remain hidden.

His heart pounded in frustration when he saw her take her place at his side, her bow raised and ready to shoot.

"I told you to take cover," he hissed out a whisper. "Where's Bat?"

"Hidden in the bracken," she answered, just as quietly.

"And why aren't you with him?"

"You need me," she answered.

Robin heaved out a sigh of frustration, and pulled Marian behind him when he saw the group of men emerge from the treeline and approach.

All were hairy and unkempt, dressed in mismatched ragged garments, and carried bows with arrows pointed at him.

Another outlaw gang that made their home in Sherwood, but not one that robbed for justice! These men were true outlaws, violent criminals, who lived outside the law of King Richard. And Marian was standing right behind him, thinking he needed her! The only thing he needed was for her to get away!

"Good morning," he greeted the ruffians charmingly. "I was just about to win a wager. Any of you men care to place a bet?"

"A wager?" one man asked with interest.

"We're not here to bet. We're gonna take you in to the sheriff! Not only are we gonna collect the reward money, Sheriff's gonna pardon the lot of us as well!"

"Is that so?" Robin asked, still friendly and charming. "Congratulations."

"I don't know what you got to smile about," another man jeered. "Sheriff's gonna hang you."

"What have we got here?" another man asked, eyeing Marian. "Lookee, men! If it isn't the Maid Marian! Oh, lassie, you're gonna have to change your name when I get through with you!"

Robin had to summon all his will not to kill the man instantly. He knew he needed his one and only arrow and all his wits to get Marian and Bat to safety. He had no intention of letting these outlaws take him, either. He had a plan.

"I wagered this lady here, that I could hit any target she named. Surely you men will allow me to carry out our bet."

Marian knew Robin must have a plan, but she couldn't understand how he could appear so charming under the circumstances. "My target is the evil heart of the leader," she said, as cold and proud as a queen.

Robin couldn't help but smile. Unknowingly, Marian had helped him! He guessed the men might just play along, now that she had spoken.

"Women," Robin said, shaking his head. "Why don't one of you men select a target instead? And place your bets! I can pay you, if I lose. Robbing from the rich pays well, you know."

"They say Robin Hood never misses," another ruffian said suspiciously.

"They also claim Little John is ten feet tall, and believe me, he isn't," Robin grinned. "Of course, if the reward money's enough for you, I'll just go with you men quietly."

Above their heads, a drama was taking place. A flock of swallows was soaring overhead, and a hawk was dropping, talons extended, honed in on one as its prey.

Robin's sharp vision took it in, and he seized his chance. "Alright, since no one wants to pick a target, I'll do it for you. I wager I can hit two birds with a single arrow."

The men snorted and guffawed at his suggestion, but grew silent when they watched him lift his bow and take aim.

The intensity on his face riveted their attention, and they looked from him skyward, to the birds overhead.

"He's gonna try it! I wager ten bob he can't do it!"

The others all shouted out their bets, and Marian saw her chance. While the men looked up, she left Robin's side and gathered Bat, then ran toward the trees, trusting that Robin would be right behind her.

Robin felt rather than saw her go. His eyes were fixed on the hawk as it dropped, his mind quickly calcuating its speed. And even though his main objective was escape, the archer in him wanted to make his shot.

The time was right. The hawk was just above the swallow. Robin loosed his arrow, turned, and ran for the trees.

He quickly caught up to Marian and Bat. Scooping Bat into his arms, he flung him on his back and pushed Marian along ahead of him.

He listened, then grinned smugly when he heard a cheer for his shot, then complaints about losing the wager, then cries of "Where'd he go?" from the outlaw gang.

"Did you hear them?" Robin asked proudly. "I hit both birds."

"Don't talk, just run," Marian ordered. "Don't forget, I still have one arrow left, Robin of Locklsey!"


	21. Chapter 21

Marian had to admire Robin's thirst for adventure. No sooner had they returned with Bat to camp, then Robin was ready to fling himself into his next daring exploit. That is, she admired it until she learned what that exploit involved.

"Much," Robin called. "Are you ready?"

"Ready?" Much appeared flustered, pleased, excited, yet wary, too, at Robin's question. "Ready for what?"

"You and I need to be off collecting taxes."

"Me? You and me?"

"Of course, my friend! It'll give us a chance to talk."

Much was so flabbergasted, he could barely spit out any words. "T-t-taxes?" he sputtered. And then, even more surprised, "TALK?"

"Taxes we do not like," Little John bellowed.

"You'll like these," Robin said, grinning wickedly. "These come from Gisbourne's coffers, and will go straight towards freeing the King."

At the mention of Gisbourne's name, Marian felt her back tense. "Robin, you can't be serious," she said, holding his arms and looking up desperately into his eyes. "Not Gisbourne. No."

"Oh, yes!" The smug proud gleam in his eyes softened as he noticed her distress. Gazing lovingly down at her, he gently spoke, "Don't worry about me, Marian. I promise not to take any unnecessary risks. I've too much to lose, now that you're mine."

"You don't know how to avoid risks," she objected, not realizing he could make the same accusation against her.

"That's why I'm taking Much along," he said gently, looking at her adoringly. "Besides, I promised you I'd have a talk with him, and this will give me an opportunity to keep my word. I always mean to do that, you know, except when it involves you being naked." He winked, then smiled as if she was the most precious thing in his life, which he felt her to be.

"Grow up."

She wasn't really angry; she was worried. But her fear for his life took the form of anger, and Robin felt stung by the venom behind those two little words.

His smile faded, and he stepped away, hiding his hurt behind the determined set of his jaw.

Watching from her bunk, Kate thought she saw an opportunity to ingratiate herself with Robin. "Go do your brave deeds, Robin, and free the King! Long live King Richard!" she cried.

"Long live King Richard," Robin echoed, hollowly.

Still, his king's name on his lips bucked him up, and he threw Kate a grateful smile. He didn't see her stick her tongue out triumphantly at Marian.

"Come on, Much," Robin said again, dashing off up the ravine. "You heard Kate. Let's go do our brave deeds!"

"For the King!" Much cried loyally, following his beloved master.

...

Much swatted away yet another fly, as he and Robin sat atop the hill overlooking Locksley.

"I like this," Much said, his voice warm with enthusiasm. "Just like old times! Remember how we used to sit up here, as boys, with nothing to do but spin dreams? Well, you spun the dreams. I listened."

"You talked!"

"I listened, too! You have to agree, I'm a very good listener. Unlike some people!"

"Pardon? Did you say something?"

"I said, unlike...Oh! Very funny!"

Robin snickered, and Much grinned back, good naturedly.

"Well, Much," Robin began, treading carefully to avoid crushing his friend's feelings, "since we do agree you're such an excellent listener, I need you to listen to something that may upset you. But it needn't!"

"I can't have Bonchurch! I knew it! I knew you'd change your mind, once you married Marian! Women always want all the property they can lay their hands on! Makes them feel secure! It's a nesting thing! I knew it!"

"No, Much. Bonchurch will be yours, if it's ever mine again to give."

"Really?"

Robin nodded his head, and Much breathed a deep sigh. "Well," he said, "I must say, I am relieved! But, if it's not Bonchurch, what, Robin? You're not kicking me out of your gang! What do I have to do to prove my worthiness to you? I'll chop off both of my arms! Well, only one arm, because-"

"No, Much," Robin said, unable to hide his amusement. "Keep your arms. And your legs. And your tongue. You might cut your hair, though. It's really past the point of shaggy."

"Done!" Much withdrew his sword and started to slice through a lock of hair.

"Not now!" Robin cried, laughing. "Just settle down, Much. I'm only trying to ask you to give me some time alone with my wife."

Much's wide blue eyes bulged even wider. "Your wife?" he sputtered. "Marian?"

Robin nodded, grinning.

"Unbelievable! All you ever do is spend time alone with her! And you're asking me for more time? Unbelievable!"

"That's not all I ever do," Robin objected, completely baffled at his friend's accusation. "We hardly ever get any time alone, with my gang surrounding us!"

"Please! What about all those long walks alone together? And your going to bed early, and rising late?"

"That is what I'm trying to talk to you about! You won't let me rise late. You're always hovering just outside where we sleep, clearing your throat, and calling me to come to breakfast. I don't need you to do that anymore. Alright, Much?"

Much sniffed. "I was only letting you know when breakfast is ready. I didn't think you'd like eating your food cold. It's revolting, cold pottage!"

"Nothing you ever cook for me is revolting, alright, Much?"

Much stared at Robin, amazed. "You don't really mean that?"

"I do. Everything you set before me is a feast, fit for King Richard himself."

Much laughed pleasantly. "Now I know you're lying! Still, some of my special concoctions are quite tasty, if I do say so myself! Of course, if I had salt, then! Oh, then, just think what I could cook up! You wouldn't hear Allan mocking my food then!"

"Salt? Is that all? Why didn't you say sooner?"

"You never asked! You never talk to me any more, you know!"

"Much, stop. We're talking now, aren't we? And, I don't see why we can't help ourselves to Gisbourne's salt, as well as his money. After all, it's on my property. Come on, it's time."

Much gulped. "Time?" he asked anxiously. "Time for what?"


	22. Chapter 22

"Alright, Much," Robin said, whispering an order. "Hand me the white fletched arrow."

As so often happened, Much was confused. "White fletched arrow?" he repeated. "Where?"

"From my quiver, Much."

In surprise, Much pulled forth an arrow tipped in white goose feathers, and handed it to his master. "How'd that get in there?" he asked, amused. "I suppose someone must have put it there by mistake! Everybody knows your arrows have to be fletched with the striped feathers of the greylag goose!"

Much chuckled, somewhat superiorly, while Robin remained engrossed in wrapping a piece of parchment around the arrow's shaft. Much continued his one sided discussion. "I remember when we were just boys, and you made that decision. 'Much,' you said, overly proud, if you don't mind me mentioning, 'from now on, all my arrows will be fletched with greylag goose feathers. That way,' you bragged, 'everyone will know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, whenever I've shot my bow.' And I must say, everybody does! Lucky for you, the greylag goose makes its home in Sherwood! Well, one of its homes, anyway. It seems to live all over! You should have seen your face when we were soldiers and you learned the greylag goose also lives in the Holy Land! Though, of course, that variety looked a bit different from our English ones. I wonder if it honked in Arabic? Odd, how that works! The same type of bird, yet-Master, what are you doing? You're not going to shoot that arrow at Gisbourne's guard! Robin, surely not! Robin?"

Robin's face was serious while he took aim. It lit up in a mischievious grin, however, once the arrow landed in the ground between the guard's feet.

"What's this?" the guard cried, taking cover against the outer walls of Locksley Manor. "Who shot that? Show yourself!"

The guard posted in the crow's nest lookout hurried down from his post to join his fellow man-at-arms. "I didn't see anybody shoot! At least we know it didn't come from Robin Hood! No stripes on the feathers."

"Yeah," the first guard agreed, beginning to relax. "But whoever fired it was a damn good shot. Came near to hittin' me!"

"There's something on that arrow," the other realized. Pulling it from the ground, he wondered aloud, "Oi! What's this?"

"Looks like a note. Writing. We'd better take it to Guy."

"Yeah, we'd better."

Robin watched the scene with satisfaction, but Much was completely befuddled. "Wha-wha-what's going on?" he asked. "A note? Master, are you sending notes to Gisbourne?"

Robin chuckled. "Not me," he answered smugly. "My wife."

"MARIAN?"

"Shh! And don't you tell her!" Robin chose to explain, while the guards were preparing to ride to Nottingham to find Gisbourne. "I wrote the note, Much, in Marian's hand."

"A forgery! But, Master, forgery's against the law!"

Robin gave Much a look of indulged amusement.

"Oh, right!" Much said. "So is...almost everything else we do these days. What did ' Marian's' note say?"

Robin couldn't hide his smug grin. "It told Gisbourne she had made a mistake in marrying me, and asked him to meet her just outside Kirklees Abbey."

"Kirklees Abbey! Why, Robin, that's miles from here!"

"Yes, I know that, Much. It's on the other side of Nottingham. I wanted to be sure Gisbourne was far away, to give us time to steal his money. And his salt," he added, with a wink.

"Steal his money?"

"I know. It's against the law."

"Very funny!"

"If you think that's funny, listen to this!"

"I _don't_ think it's funny! That's the point in me saying, 'Very funny!' But what? What's the funny part? Robin!"

"The funny part is, when Gisbourne gets to Kirklees, he's going to receive another note."

"Another note? What's so funny about that?"

Robin snickered. "The second note comes from me, explaining how I duped him!"

Much's eyes lit up in appreciation. "Oh! very good! You're sending him on a wild GOOSE chase, with all your notes on goose fletched arrows! Very good!"

Robin grew serious. "Come on," he ordered. "They've gone." Swaggering into the open, Robin was swarmed by his adoring serfs. After greeting them fondly, he threw off his brown hooded overshirt and kicked off his boots.

"Master?" Much asked, confounded again.

"How well did you like your dunking when you stopped Gisbourne's wedding?" Robin asked his friend.

"My what?"

"I didn't much like the water, when we rescued Matilda. But we're going in again, Much."

"But, but, but...I thought we came here to steal Gisbourne's money! Not to go for a swim! Unbelievable!"

"Where do you think he's hidden it? Gisbourne's taking no chances with his wealth, since the beautiful Nightwatchman stole it."

Much scowled distastefully. "In the pond?" he asked, unhappily. "That is revolting!"


	23. Chapter 23

Damp but triumphant, Robin and Much returned to camp bearing a muddy chest containing Gisbourne's money, and a salt cellar of beaten gold, decorated with the Huntington crest of wheat shafts.

Robin dodged, as Kate tried to fling herself into his arms, and turned instead to smile at Marian.

His beautiful wife smiled back, relieved and delighted he had returned safely.

"Gisbourne's money," Djaq said, in awe. "How did you do it?"

Robin grinned with smug satisfaction. "It was easy, wasn't it, Much? We simply provided a distraction to dismiss the guards, then went fishing in the pond."

"Fishing is a euphemism," Much informed the gang proudly, not realizing they already knew it. "And while 'fishing,' we caught this chest of money! You know, I rather liked finding buried treasure, under water! Makes me feel like a pirate! Remember those pirates we fought, Robin, on our way home from war? And that young wife of the Venetian merchant onboard the ship? What was her name again? She fancied you!"

Robin shot a quick glance at Marian's inquiring eyes, and hastily covered, "I don't remember."

Little John and Allan were busy digging through the contents of the chest. "Lovely money!" Allan cried, appreciatively. "How'd Giz get all this, so quick? Thought you cleaned out his nestegg, Marian, a year or two back."

"I did. I have no idea where he got that."

"Ill gotten gains," Robin told them, bitterly. Brightening, he crowed, "But now, they'll go far to help free the King, right, lads?" Smiling, and softening his voice, he picked up Bat asked him, "How's the newest member of my gang? Have you been having a fun day?"

A delightful warm rush shot through Marian, as she watched the strong man she loved relate so sweetly to the small boy. She couldn't help but feel protective and loving toward the child, and was pleased to see Robin acting as if he felt the same way. It added yet another dimension to their already abundant love, and her heart swelled.

Sharing Bat's laughter, Robin swung the boy to the ground and approached Marian. "What's this?" he asked, reaching out to touch a flower she'd tucked behind her ear. "It's very pretty."

"It's a daisy," she answered, smiling proudly. "Bat picked it for me."

"Nice work," Robin told the boy approvingly. "The last time I tried giving her flowers, she told me they were poison."

"They were deadly nightshade, Robin," Marian reminded him, laughing at the memory.

"And the time before that, she used the bouquet I offered her to beat me black and blue."

"That was ages ago, when you handed me roses you stole from my own garden!"

"I didn't steal them! I was giving them to you!"

"You _have_ given me violets, not so very long ago, for which I'm truly grateful."

Believing no one was watching, Marian teased his ear with her lips and whispered into it, "Come to bed, my husband. I missed you sorely today."

Robin felt a pleasurable rush of heat course through his body, and his heart began pounding hard in his chest. He couldn't wait to be alone with his wife, and took her warm hand in one of his already hot ones, and pressed it to his lips.

"Goodnight," he quietly told his men.

Much stopped him.

"But, Master, you haven't told everyone how we distracted the guards!"

"Don't, Much!" Robin warned him. "You promised not to say anything!"

Allan gave his finest Much impersonation. " 'I'm not sayin' anything! I'm not sayin' anything!' Come on, Much, spill it!"

"I'm not saying anything!" Much repeated.

Robin's stern gaze held Much's bewildered one, and no one uttered a word. Satisfied at last by Much's silence, Robin relaxed, but the mood had been broken for Marian.

"Robin," she said, "we can't go to bed until we tuck Bat in."

Robin sighed, and smiled at his wife from under his fringe of bangs. "Of course we can't!" He winked at her, then turned to the child. "Alright, young man, on your knees! It's time to say your bedtime prayers."

Bat crouched on his knees between Robin and Marian, who kneeled down on either side of him. The small boy nestled against Marian's side, while the three of them bowed their heads, folded their hands, and closed their eyes.

In the hushed stillness of the forest, Robin spoke an evening prayer.

"Lord of Heaven and Earth," he began reverently. "Most gracious and loving Father, we humbly give You thanks for this day, and ask for Your continued blessings and gracious mercy over us. Forgive us our sins, and be with us throughout the night. Strengthen us, Lord, so that we might rise again tomorrow to do Your work." Crossing himself, he finished, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. World without end, Amen."

"Amen," Marian added, along with Much, who had also dropped to his knees, and now made the sign of the cross over his chest.

"And now, young man," Robin said cheerfully, lifting Bat with one strong arm and swinging him onto his upper bunk, to the boy's delight, "time for a bedtime story!"

"Your story can't be any better than how you sent that note to Gisbourne from Marian!" Much blurted out happily, without thinking. "That was a good one! Can you imagine how Gisbourne must have looked, when he read she was leaving you for him?"

"What?" Marian asked, not believing she had heard Much correctly. "What note?"

Robin uttered a groan, as Much gulped and realized, "I shouldn't have said that!"


	24. Chapter 24

"Sorry!"

Much threw out his arms in a gesture of frustration, wishing he could take back the words that had just spilled from his lips. Words that had made Marian angry at Robin, and therefore, Robin annoyed with him.

Robin and Marian moved out of earshot, mostly to spare Bat from hearing their voices raised in argument. Much and Kate, however, crept close to hover nearby, the servant because he believed everything dealing with Robin must also concern him, and Kate because she hoped their argument might pave the way for her to take first place in Robin's heart.

"Are you going to explain to me," Marian demanded of her husband, "the note I supposedly sent Guy?"

"Guy?" Robin repeated, his own anger rising to meet hers. "Oh, that's right! I'd forgotten how very close you were to the gallant gentleman."

"Grow up. And don't think for a moment you can deflect criticism off yourself by attacking me! I asked you a simple question, Locksley, and I'm waiting for your answer."

Robin met her proud gaze, and felt it would be better to come clean, tell her everything, and be done with it.

"I needed to keep Gisbourne occupied, away from Locksley, to give me a chance to steal his money," he confessed. "I thought a letter from you would be the easiest method to draw him away."

"I thought he was in Nottingham. That should have been far enough away from Locksley for you."

"Not nearly far enough, considering how long it took to scour the pond and find where he'd buried his chest. My chest, really. Dan Scarlet made it for my father. Besides, I had to do something to remove Gisbourne's henchmen."

"So you forged my hand, pretending I sent him a letter? Saying what? That I wished I'd never married you? You don't realize how accurate that is!"

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I? How can you be sure?"

"Because I know."

Marian couldn't dispute him. They both knew they were madly in love, and blissfully happy together. But it didn't stop her from being furious with him now.

Robin decided to try to justify his actions to her, ignoring the fact that he'd written the letters primarily as a way to goad Gisbourne, gloating that Marian had chosen him.

"Marian, I had to do something to keep him occupied, away from Locksley. It worked, didn't it?"

"I don't appreciate you misrepresenting my words, written or spoken, do you understand?"

"Since when have you cared about being honest to Gisbourne? He certainly doesn't deserve your honesty. You think you would have learned by now!"

"After he tried to kill me, you mean?"

"Yes."

"This isn't about Gisbourne, Robin. It's about you, using my name, forging my signature, without consulting me."

"Do you want to know why I didn't consult you? It's because I knew you'd throw up objections, and try to stop my plan."

"Oh! So I hamper you now, do I? Is that what you think?"

"You never follow my orders! Like today, in the meadow. I told you to stay hidden, and what did you do? You appeared in the open, where every ruffian could leer at you, and rape you in his mind. If I didn't know better, I'd think you liked the attention, having grown used to it, living under Gisbourne's gaze."

"How dare you?"

Robin stopped for breath, realizing what he'd just said. "I did not mean that," he apologized, truly sorry.

But it was too late. Marian was truly angry now.

"You, at any rate," she fumed, "won't be enjoying my attentions tonight, if ever again."

"Marian!"

With angry tears stinging her eyes, she stormed away and crawled into Bat's bunk. Lying on her side behind the sleeping child, she flung one arm over his small frame, forced back her tears, and tried to sleep.

Much and Kate tentatively approached Robin.

"Sorry, Master," Much apologized again. "Marian...well, Marian's got a temper alright, but she'll come around tomorrow, I think you'll find."

"Go to bed, Much," Robin advised hollowly.

Much nodded and climbed into his bunk. In no time at all, he was asleep.

Kate followed Robin, treading so closely behind him she stepped on his heels.

In a miserable, confiding mood, Robin picked up the golden salt cellar he had taken from Locksley Manor, and turned it over and over in his hands, studying it with vague, unseeing eyes.

"That's my family crest," he told Kate sadly, showing her the Huntington shield with shafts of wheat molded into the gold. "I remember my grandfather, sitting at our table, holding this salt cellar in his hand, when I was even younger than Bat. Once, a shaft of sunlight struck it, turning his white hair and beard to gold, so I thought he'd magically turned young again. But then, the light faded, leaving him an old man. I'd forgotten that until today."

"You want an heir, don't you?" Kate stated.

Her question took Robin by surprise. "I want a lot of things I used to take for granted," he admitted bravely. "But you learn to do without. You know that, Kate. You've lost things, too. We've all suffered losses."

His eyes were so kind and sympathetic, his face and form so handsome, Kate felt swept away. She swallowed, then plunged ahead.

"I want children," she told him, hoping he'd take the hint. "I can bear them."

Robin only nodded, and went back to listlessly studying the salt cellar in his hands. At last, regaining his usual vitality, he spread a square of cloth on the table, unfastened the cellar's lid, and emptied its salt onto the cloth.

"What are you doing?" Kate whined.

Robin looked one final time at his family heirloom before tossing it into the chest containing Gisbourne's money. "This should go towards the King's ransom," he decided. "It's worth a fortune."

"But it's yours!" Kate cried. "You remember your grandfather with it!"

"This way, we can keep some of Gisbourne's money to give to my people. I can't neglect them, no matter how badly I want to bring Richard home."

Kate dug her toe in the dirt, longing to kiss him goodnight. Longing to be kissed in return.

Robin peered over her scraggly blond head at Marian, who had fallen asleep, exhausted from their quarrel. Kate turned and let her glance follow his gaze.

"Is it safe for you, with him here?" she asked. "Lydia's shame, I mean. He's a Gisbourne, after all."

"Bat? He's no one's shame, poor lad. He's had more unhappiness in his short life than you or I can imagine. But we're changing that, Kate. We're spreading a bit of happiness in his life. And once he learns to write, he can make his thoughts known, and be understood. Everybody needs that."

Kate thought Robin was too trusting. She didn't tell him so, but she was worried for his safety. In her mind, it was up to her to be brave and do something to protect him.

With an unhappy sigh, Robin bid her goodnight and went to bed alone, to spend the night tossing and turning, missing the close companionship of his wife. His fitful sleep was plagued by nightmares, his mind plunging him back to Acre, seeing Marian slip away from him with Gisbourne's sword through her belly.

Kate was the only outlaw in camp who didn't sleep. Try as she might, she couldn't. She convinced herself that Robin wasn't safe, and she couldn't stand it.

Shortly after midnight, she rose and stood by Bat's bunk. Very carefully, she lifted Marian's arm off the sleeping child. Marian smiled in her sleep and murmured Robin's name, causing Kate to scowl.

"Come on," Kate whispered, shaking Bat awake. "Get up and follow me. Robin says I've got to take you back to the castle."


	25. Chapter 25

"Robin, wake up! Bat's missing!"

Robin awoke to find Marian leaning over him, her lovely face etched with worry. "Marian!" he cried groggily, leaning up on his elbows. "I didn't mean what I said last night! I'm sorry."

"Never mind that," she said, her voice urgent. "Bat's gone, Robin!"

"Bat?"

The recent hours he'd spent in nightmares made it difficult to shake the sleep from him. When comprehension struck at last, he bolted to his feet and sprang into action.

"What do you know?" he asked, reaching for his bow and quiver.

Marian could scarcely breathe, so great was her panic. "It's my fault," she told him. "I lay down in his bunk with him, and must have crowded him. When I awoke, he was gone, and no one's seen him."

"No," Robin said, tenderly stroking her cheek. "You're not to blame. He wouldn't mind you sleeping beside him. Trust me."

"Where can he be?" she asked.

"Probably just wandered off, and got distracted. He's never tasted freedom before, and-"

Robin paused, thinking he guessed where Bat must be. "I think I know where he is! Come on!"

Before dashing off to the meadow where they'd conducted Bat's archery lesson, Robin first viewed his camp. He froze, feeling a sense of foreboding, when he saw Bat's small bow among the other weapons.

"Master, what do we do?" Much asked.

"He's got his pipes with him, right?" Robin asked, strapping on his sword.

"I think so," Marian said, her voice sounding small. "He fell asleep clutching them."

"Good. Then he can blow on them if he's lost, or-"

"Or what?" Much demanded.

"Shut up," Allan scolded, his devil-may-care attitude absent for once.

"We'll split up and search for him," Robin decided. "Pairs. Will and Djaq, head east. John, you and Much go west. Marian and I will look north."

"Oi!" Allan objected. "Why do I get stuck with Kate? She's not even awake!"

"Wake her up, and search to the south. Meet back here in two hours. And Much, keep quiet, so you can listen for Bat's pipes."

"I won't say anything!"

"Good."

The outlaws set off in their designated directions, leaving Allan alone with Kate. With a frustrated sigh, he nudged her awake.

"Oi! Kate! Wake up! We gotta look for Bat!"

Kate sat up, squinting her eyes at morning's light, looking even more foul than usual. "Where's Robin?" she asked.

"Off lookin' for Bat, which is what we gotta do, too. Get up."

"Bat?" she asked, feeling guilty. Then, reminding herself she'd snuck the boy away and left him at Nottingham Castle, all to save Robin, she felt better. But nothing would induce her to admit what she'd done.

"Alright," she agreed. "But I gotta go pee first."

...

Isabella narrowed her eyes as she studied the small boy sleeping on the floor in a corner of her bedchamber. Now, she asked herself, what should she do with her brother's bastard child? She let her mind dwell on last night's events.

Unable to sleep, she had taken a walk through the castle, and had been surprised when she nearly collided with Kate.

The two women despised each other on many levels, but the foundation of their hatred was their rivalry for Robin's affections.

"What are you doing here?" Isabella had sneered. "One little word from me, and I can have you arrested."

"Shut up. I'm here, saving Robin."

"Robin's been captured? How? When?"

"He's sleeping, back at camp. But he's not safe, with this one around." Kate pushed Bat forward, in full view of Isabella.

The tiny boy was so tired, he could barely stand. He was terrified as well, and hurt and confused, thinking Robin wanted to be rid of him.

"Give him to me," Isabella ordered, pulling Bat to her. "After all, he's my nephew, tainted though he is with peasant blood."

Satisfied to have disposed of Bat safely, Kate readjusted her hood and ran away, heading home to Sherwood.

Isabella's mind returned to the present, letting it treacherously tick off the various ways the bastard might prove useful to her.

He wouldn't serve as a means to manipulate Guy. Guy cared nothing for the brat, and she couldn't expose him, for everyone already knew he was the boy's father. So, could she use the little bastard to strike back at Robin, for deserting her the moment he discovered Marian was not really dead? What would be the most delicious way to hurt the handsome outlaw, and his pure hearted wife?

"Of course!" Isabella gloated, smiling with satisfaction.

Scanning the many vials of potions on her shelves, Isabella carefully selected one.

"Ah, yes!" she said, pursing her thin lips together in a smile of grim satisfaction. "Valarian root, mixed with a generous dose of wolfsbane! The very thing to bring on a nice, slow, painful demise. Poor little Bat! No one will be the wiser that you didn't simply waste away from ill health. And the Gisbourne family escrutcheon will be free, at least, from one of Guy's mistakes. A win win situation, I'd call it."

Removing the vial's stopper, she poured a few drops into a chalice of milk, then gently woke the boy.

"Good morning, Bat," she said. "Don't be afraid. I'm your Aunt Isabella, and I'll take care of you. Here, drink this milk. It will make you strong."


	26. Chapter 26

Sheriff Vaisey laughed in open mockery at his Master-at-Arms' fury.

"My lord," Gisbourne seethed, "I hardly think this is a laughing matter!"

"Remind me again of the notes, Gisbourne, hmm? First, Marian sends you word she's abandoning Hood, and wants to meet you at Kirklees Abbey? And then, once you've dropped everything to desert your duties to me, you're delivered this second note at Kirklees, in Robin Hood's own hand, boasting it was all a hoax, giving him time to steal your money?"

The sheriff broke into a second explosion of laughter. "How much did he take, Gisbourne, hmm?"

Gisbourne snarled his answer through clenched teeth. "Everything I've sweated for. All my silver."

"How much?" Vaisey repeated, viciously angry at Hood now.

"I'm not aware of the exact amount, my lord."

Vaisey threw his feet off his table and rose from his seat. "You're not? Do you mean to tell me, you don't even know how much money you hid? Money, no doubt, on its way now to free the King?"

"The silver nearly filled a chest," Gisbourne hastened to explain.

Vaisey seethed, silently glaring at his lieutenant. At last, he spit out, "Do you know what your problem is, Gisbourne, hmm? All your brains are in your black leather buttocks! No wonder your backside's so boring!"

_Unlike Robin's saucy little buttcheeks,_ the sheriff was thinking. _Ever in motion, swaggering about, firm and tight and round-_

"My lord, when can we expect the runt to return, and lead us to Hood?"

The impatience in Gisbourne's tone interrupted Vaisey's erotic musings. "Any day now, Gisbourne. Any day. And when Bat the Brat does return, you'll get your money back, after I extract a penalty. For your stupidity, you understand. Nothing personal."

"And you'll kill Hood? And give me Marian?"

"My dear boy, I might even forgo the fee you owe me for your incompetence! A clue...no. But then again, marriage to the Leper should eventually prove punishment enough for you."

"I have no intention of marrying her, my lord."

"No? I thought that was your Holy Grail, Gisbourne, all these years. Marriage to Marian, to wipe away your sins. Isn't that what you'd been planning, hmm, Gisbourne?"

"She's no longer pure, my lord. I'll still have Marian, but not in the marriage bed."

"Oh, very good, Gisbourne!" _And I'll have Hood! It will make his death that much sweeter!_

"Do you know what I plan to do with Hood, once I capture him?"

Gisbourne didn't want to think on that, not at all. "I hope, my lord, you will kill him as soon as possible, to prevent him from escaping."

"Oh, I'll kill him alright! The delightful question is...how? There are so many fascinating possibilities! A slow, painful death, with him still conscious and talking, would be poetry! I wouldn't want to miss out on one of our little chats! And once he's dead, I want his pretty little head, attached to his pretty little body, on a pretty big spike, outside my castle!"

"Yes, my lord. I've heard that before."

"Do you think it won't happen, Gisbourne, hmm? Do you think I'll let Hood escape me, again? A CLUE...NO! This time, Gisbourne, THIS TIME, THERE WILL BE NO ESCAPE! I want Robin Hood's pretty little skull on my pillow by this time next week! Oh, yes, this is good! This is good! I intend to cradle it, every night, Gisbourne, as I fall asleep. If Marian is to be your Holy Grail, then Robin Hood's skull can be my bedtime blankie!"

Gisbourne could only sneer and swallow at that comment. Recovering his voice, he managed to ask, "And what about Allan?"

"What about him, Gisbourne, hmm?"

"He betrayed me, my lord. I'd like to take my revenge on him, as well."

"Once you've tired of your leper friend, you mean, Gisbourne, hmm?"

"I did not mean that, my lord," Gisbourne answered, cringing. "I only request you let me strike the blow that kills him, after he's tortured first.

"My dear boy! Of course! Enjoy it, by all means!"

A knock at the door interrupted the private discussion. A guard resectfully entered, and said, "Excuse me, my lords. Lady Isabella of Gisbourne requests an audience."

"Show her in, you blithering oaf," Vaisey ordered, snapping his fingers impatiently. "Do you think I have all day? A clue...no. Show her in."

Wheeling around to face his lieutenant, he said, "Stick around, Gisbourne, hmm? This is bound to be good!"


	27. Chapter 27

Isabella swept into the Sheriff's chamber, threw her brother a quick sneer, then dropped a deep, graceful curtsey. "My lord Sheriff," she began, "I am here to make a request, and pray you will look kindly on me, a helpless woman."

Isabella was dressed in her loveliest gown, yet wore her hair loose and flowing. She believed herself a sight to warm even the coldest man's heart, but she did not realize how immune the sheriff was to her charms.

"Request away," Vaisey said, mockery under his breath.

Isabella lifted crystal blue eyes to gaze appealing into Vaisey's face, certain she could make the sheriff want her, and bend him to her will.

"You must help me, my lord," she began, her voice pitifully pleading. "My brother keeps me so short of funds, I barely have enough to keep me alive."

"Money?" Vaisey almost screamed. "You're asking me for money? Do I look like a Jew to you?"

"My lord," Isabella hastened to explain, "I want no money from you! I'm only requesting you force my brother to provide for me, so that I may live in a manner befitting my station."

Gisbourne strode to her. Sneering down at his sister, he spat out, "Let your husband provide for you! I did my part, selling you to a man who could pay for your follies!"

"Oh! This is good! This is good!" Vaisey chuckled. "Do I detect a note of strife among siblings?"

"You'll get nothing from me!" Gisbourne stormed, barely stopping himself from sending her sprawling across the room with a forceful kick. "Hood's stolen my silver!"

"Hood?" she asked rising, a spark lighting up within her at the very mention of his name. "Tell me, dear brother, how did he manage that?"

Unable to control his fury, Gisbourne roared out an oath and turned away.

Vaisey clicked his tongue. "Temper, Gisbourne, temper. What have I told you about saving your temper for someone who deserves it, hmm? For someone who's earned it? Shall we say, someone who made it her practice to lie to you, to deceive you, batting her wide blue eyes at you, while all the time she was thinking about running off to the forest to rut with Hood?"

"Oh, when I have her," Gisbourne seethed, "believe me, my lord, she will feel the force of my revenge!"

"Yes," Vaisey murmured. "Well, we must catch her first, mustn't we, Gisbourne, hmm?"

"My lord," Isabella resumed, watching the exchange between her brother and the sheriff with eager eyes, "what about my money?"

"Your money!" the sheriff repeated, flashing the gap in his teeth as he grinned his evil grin. Instantly his mood exploded into rage. "Haven't you been listening? I will not pay you! And your brother hasn't so much as a hae penny! Go back to Hood, if you want his money, for that's who's stolen it!"

Appearing to calm, the sheriff sneered, "I swear, Gisbourne, you ought to replace the black and yellow hodgepodge on your family crest with a rampant bore!" Turning on Isabella, he fumed, "Until Bat the Brat returns, there's nothing Gisbourne can do for you, Missy. Do you understand?"

"Bat the-?" Isabella smiled a slow, self satisfied smile. "Well then, my lord sheriff, I may have some news for you."

"What news?" Gisbourne seethed.

Isabella took her time, enjoying the moment. Both men, powerful beyond all others in the shire, hung on her every word. "I may just happen to know where the brat is, and he's not in the forest! Of course, for me to tell you, the price must be right."

"If you do not tell us, Missy," the sheriff roared, "the price will be your neck!"

With both men surrounding her threateningly, Isabella knew she was beaten. "He returned last night," she told them. "He's in my chambers, asleep. I believe he's ill, my lords."

Neither Gisbourne nor the sheriff spoke another word, but both took off running toward Isabella's bedchamber. Following closely at their heels, Isabella wondered what diabolical use they could have with the bastard brat.

Huffing from his mad dash, Vaisey flung wide the door and ran to Bat, who lay on the floor in a corner of the room. His lips were as ghastly white as his little face, and one hand clutched his sides, as he was racked in an agony of pain. His other small fist held tightly to his beloved pipes, the only toy he'd ever owned.

"My dear Bat!" the sheriff crowed. "Welcome back! I trust you are ready to carry out the next little part of my scheme? You'll be a hero, my boy! You, of all people, will be the one who leads me straight to the fiendish outlaw, Robin Hood!"

"What's wrong with him?" Gisbourne asked angrily.

"I told you he was ill," Isabella snapped.

"Nothing a brisk ride through the forest won't cure!" Vaisey crowed eagerly. "And a staged drowning, of course! Come, Bat, my tiny trickster! It's time to execute my plan!"

"What plan, my lord sheriff, if I may be so bold as to ask?" Isabella wondered.

The sheriff chortled in delight. "Oh! This is good! This is good! It involves Bat here, leading Gisbourne, myself, and a squadron of armed guards, straight to Hood's forest hideout! Once we're close, Bat will infiltrate the camp, and beg Hood to take him swimming, separating Hood from his weapons, as it were. Then, Bat will feign to drown. 'Oh! Help me! Help me!' " the sheriff cried, in a high pitched voice. "Oh, I know you can't speak, but you can flail your arms about, can't you, my boy? And while Hood is occupied 'rescuing' you, we'll close in and capture him!"

"And I'll have Marian," Gisbourne breathed, his loins burning at the thought.

"Oh, give it a rest, Gisbourne," Vaisey sneered, eyeing the bulge in Gisbourne's trousers. "Bring the boy, if he's too weak to walk." Prancing to the door, Vaisey opened it and shouted, "Guards! Somebody saddle me a horse, and make it a fast one! It's time to catch Hoodie Hoodie Hoodie!"


	28. Chapter 28

Robin's gang met back at camp, weary but hopeful that one of the other pairs had found Bat. When everyone had returned and learned that the boy was still missing, discouragement set in.

Much voiced his anxieties aloud, until he was told to shut up by nearly everyone. Kate was unusually tight lipped and silent.

Robin, remembering how she had recently told him she wanted children, mistook her silence for concern. "It's alright, Kate," he said gently, trying to console her. "We'll find him, I promise."

Kate gulped and reached for Robin, but he'd already turned away.

Shifting his gaze toward Marian, his heart constricted when he noticed her holding the daisy Bat had picked, its petals edged with brown now, its soft stem wilting.

With quick strides, he moved toward Marian and drew her into his arms.

Marian allowed herself a single moment to rest, her head against his chest. Then, refusing to break down and cry, she pulled away and said, "We need to keep searching."

"What was that?" Djaq suddenly asked.

Everyone listened, but only the three women could hear the faint, high pitched sound.

Marian gasped, her face lighting up. "Robin!" she cried. "Bat's pipes!"

Djaq flung her arms around Will, since he had created the set of pipes for the child, but Robin dropped to the ground. Pressing his ear to earth, he listened intently, not for sound, but for vibrations.

"He's not alone," he warned his gang, leaping to his feet. "If I'm not mistaken, he's brought an entire squadron of sheriff's men with him."

Much sputtered so badly he couldn't spit out the words. "Unbelievable!" he cried at last. "I knew it was dangerous to take him in! I knew it!"

"Don't blame Bat," Robin ordered. "He's only a boy."

"Master, what do we do?"

There wasn't time to think. Robin quickly issued orders for the pairs to fan out and stay hidden, and to be prepared to fight.

"Spare the boy, no matter what you think he's done," Robin demanded. "Let's see if we can save him, along with ourselves. Godspeed, my friends, and thank you."

...

Sheriff Vaisey was sweating, ruining his embroidered black doublet. Any moment, he expected a shower of arrows to come raining down upon him and his men, and for the first time in many years, he doubted the soundness of one of his schemes. At least he'd had the foresight to place Bat the Brat in front of him on his horse, to act as a human shield. And, as long as he made it out of the forest alive, with Hood as his trophy, all would be sunshine. Gisbourne, with his unending demands for the Leper, could die and rot here, for all he cared.

"How much farther, Bat, my friend?" Vaisey asked, despising the boy for being unable to speak, even though it had been his own command to have the brat's tongue cut out.

Gisbourne, too, felt hatred for the boy. The runt was so weak, so frail and sickly, Gisbourne's anger raged within his breast. No son of his should be such a weakling! He couldn't be his! The brat's mother, seemingly so shy, must have been a whore, spreading her legs for dozens of men! Gisbourne pushed back the memory of seizing her and taking her maidenhead roughly behind his stables while his guards held her down, with her pathetic cries of fear and pain, and her warm stickey blood dribbling down her legs.

His memories were interrupted when the runt held something to his lips and weakly blew through it, creating a high pitched, musical sound.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vaisey roared. "Gisbourne!"

Sir Guy wheeled his horse around and reached toward Bat, grabbing the boy's pipes from his tiny hands. Flinging them to the ground, he let his horse trample and crush them.

"Very good, Gisbourne," Vaisey approved, reining his horse to a stop.

"What," Vaisey sneered into Bat's ear, "did you just do, hmm? Don't tell me you just gave warning to Robin Hood! For you won't like what I have in store for you, my little friend, if that was indeed your plan!"

Without warning, an arrow fletched with the striped feathers of the greylag goose buzzed through the air and hit its target, the pommel on Guy of Gisbourne's saddle.

Bile shot up into Gisbourne's throat, making him choke on his fear.

"It's Hood!" the sheriff screamed, ducking behind Bat. "Guards! Gisbourne! Find him!"


	29. Chapter 29

"Robin! Oh, Robin! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Sheriff Vaisey's excitement at Hood's proximity nearly trumped his fear. Crouching down in his saddle, he attempted to hide behind the tiny body of the ghastly sick Bat.

"Where do you think he can be?" Vaisey asked Gisbourne quietly, his evil eyes darting about through the thick forest foliage.

"This arrow came from that direction," Gisbourne sneered, even more frightened than the sheriff. After all, Prince John hadn't issued any decrees protecting his life from an untimely end.

"Throw down your weapons, Hood!" Gisbourne called out, conquering his fear. "You're outnumbered."

The only response was the chatter of a squirrel. The forest seemed deathly quiet.

Vaisey lifted his voice. "You have until the count the ten, Hood, to surrender your pretty little body up to me, and if you don't, well, let's just say Bat the Brat here will be taking a permanent nap, in the CHURCHYARD!"

"My lord," Gisbourne objected, "that wasn't part of the plan! What about Marian?"

Vaisey laughed mockingly under his breath. "Do you know what your problem is, Gisbourne, hmm? You assumed I'd be true to my word, hmm, didn't you? Never assume, Gisbourne, unless it's an occasional air of intelligence. But that's asking too much of you, isn't it?"

"My lord," Gisbourne hissed. "You swore to me Marian would be mine!"

"Yes. And life is usually so much fairer! No, Gisbourne. If you insist on having the Leper, you must capture her yourself." Lifting his voice for all to hear, Vaisey shouted, "We're here today for YOU, Hood! Turn yourself in, my friend, unless you want to watch Gisbourne spewer the Brat like a shish ka bob! Isn't that what you feasted on in the Holy Land, when you were playing loyal soldier to your beloved King?"

Still there was no response. Gisbourne unsheathed his sword, drew his horse closer to Vaisey's, grabbed Bat by his shirt, and held his swordpoint to his chest.

"Very good, Gisbourne! Just be sure not to soil my clothing with his blood, hmm, should Hood prove elusive. One!" Vaisey called out. "Two...three..."

Without warning, Robin dropped from the tree directly overhead, tackling Vaisey to the ground with him. At the same time, he managed to wrest Bat from Gisbourne's grip, and sent Vaisey's horse, with the boy upon its back, in the opposite direction from where he'd just come from Marian's side. Robin didn't want to take any chances of Gisbourne following the boy straight toward Marian. He was sure Gisbourne would meet a more satisfying welcome if he ran straight toward Much and Little John.

But it was a mute point. Gisbourne's horse, after rearing, stayed rooted to the spot, watching as Robin and Vaisey rolled about together on the ground. Gisbourne's stomach churned as he realized how much pleasure Vaisey was must be gleaning from the surprise encounter.

Two of the sheriff's men, however, had the foresight to follow their master's horse, and soon brought Bat back to Gisbourne. Gisbourne held the shivering child by the scruff of his neck, placing the blade of his sword against it.

By this time, Robin had pulled the sheriff to his feet, and held him hostage with his own sword at Vaisey's throat.

"Let the boy go, Gisbourne," Robin demanded, "or the sheriff dies."

"You won't kill him, Hood," Gisbourne answered back, "not unless you want to bring Prince John's armies down on Nottingham."

"You're right, I won't," Robin responded. "But Prince John never made a promise to destroy Nottingham, if the sheriff's maimed." Glaring into his captive's terrified face, Robin snarled, "So, Vaisey, what's it going to be? Are you ready to have your own tongue cut out, or will you use it to order Gisbourne to release the boy?"

"Never!" Vaisey cried. "You're coming with me, Hood!"

Robin realized the sheriff could play this game all day, gathering some kind of strange enjoyment from feeling Robin's hands upon him. The outlaw decided he'd have a better shot to rescue Bat, if he bargained with Gisbourne.

"Release him, Gisbourne, if you ever expect to hear another order from your master's tongue! Otherwise, I'll cut it out and eat it for my dinner!"

Gisbourne hesitated, believing Hood was crazy enough to do it. With a furious roar, Gisbourne threw the boy to the ground and shouted, "There's the runt! You're welcome to him, Hood, since you seem unable to father any of your! Release the sheriff. NOW!"

"Not until he's safely away," Robin called back, relieved beyond words that Bat was free. "Run, Bat!" Robin called urgently. "My men will find you!"

The little boy mustered all the waning strength he had left, and stumbled off into the forest. When Robin was satisfied Bat was safely away, he hurled Vaisey face down onto the ground, and turned and ran, shooting off arrows at the soldiers as he went.

Other arrows, fletched in white and black feathers, joined Robin's striped ones, causing the sheriff's men to retreat, despite Vaisey's hysterical screams of "He's getting away! After him! After him!"


	30. Chapter 30

Bat was welcomed back into Robin's gang with friendly smiles and tender care. Kate alone seemed unhappy to have him back, but no one paid her bitter scowls any heed, being used to them.

Bat sat on Marian's lap, shivering violently every few seconds, while Djaq thoroughly examined him.

"He needs water," Djaq pronounced. "And many herbs I do not have."

"Here's water!" Anxious to help, Much handed Djaq his flask. "As for herbs, you're welcome to any in my kitchen! There's rosemary, and sage, and thyme, and-"

"I need medicine, not seasoning," Djaq said, smiling gently. "Who can go to Matilda for me?"

"I'll go," Robin volunteered.

"And me," Much added, pleased at the prospect of spending time alone with his best friend.

"No," Kate told him, also seizing the opportunity to be alone with Robin. "You need to stay here and cook. Robin didn't go to all that trouble, stealing Gisbourne's salt, for you to shirk your duties. I'll go."

"Not bein' funny, but see if Matilda can give you a cure for 'ugly,' " Allan joked, earning him another one of Kate's scowls.

Robin barely noticed Much's crestfallen state, focused as he was on the sight of Marian, cradling the sick boy's tiny body. To his lovestruck eyes, she appeared so beautiful she shimmered, ethereal, like some legendary forest nymph.

Another violent shudder of the boy's shoulders brought Robin back to earth, and he gave Djaq his attention, making a mental list of everything she told him she needed. In no time at all, he and Kate were running through the forest on their way to Matilda's cottage.

...

Isabella of Gisbourne paced the castle corridors, trying to rid herself of frustration and boredom. The news that Robin had eluded her brother and the sheriff once again irritated her highly, especially since she'd so been looking forward to seeing the handsome outlaw bound in ropes, a prisoner.

How glorious it would have been to gloat in his face, and how she might have bargained with him to secure his escape!

But no, Robin was not captured, and she'd been a fool to expect a different outcome, with her brother second-in-command.

Pacing restlessly, Isabella soon learned that she was not the only frustrated Gisbourne this day. She coldly watched with smug satisfaction as Guy peppered his shouted orders with oaths and curses, as he flung aside benches that stood between him and his trembling guards.

_It should prove satisfying to taunt Guy, _Isabella was thinking. _At least, I'm no longer bored._

"My, my, brother," she gloated. "What's happened to your icy control? Surely you can't be bothered that Robin bested you. Again."

"I don't need you to sneer at me," Guy snapped.

"Because the sheriff's belittled you enough already? Watch out, Guy, before he replaces you with someone who can bring him want he wants."

"You think _you_ could succeed in giving him Hood? You? A worthless woman?" Gisbounre's sneer was almost a laugh.

Isabella fumed inwardly. "I can. And what's more, I can make Marian return to you, of her own free will. What do say to that, brother dear?"

Gisbourne caught his breath. His blind, obsessive lust for Marian overpowered his reason, and his pride. "How?" he breathed, picturing Marian on her knees before him, begging his forgiveness for her betrayals.

"Oh, I have my ways," Isabella gloated.

Her pride was knocked from her when she felt the strong, black gloved hand strike her hard across her face. Isabella staggered sideways several steps, regained her balance, but cradled her cheek in her hand, staring at the few drops of blood that dripped from her nose.

"Tell me!" Gisbourne bellowed.

Conquering her whimpers of pain, Isabella told Guy her plan. "Robin's bound to be tiring of his cow by this time. Men always do, when forced to feast on the same diet, night after night. I will provide a welcome diversion, a new, tasty dish, savory and spicey. He'll succumb. He did once before, quite easily."

"That was when he believed Marian dead!" Gisbourne shouted.

"Yes, because you so gallantly ran her through with your sword. Wasn't that what happened? I wasn't there, of course, but one hears rumors."

"Hood won't fall for you," Gisbourne sneered. _Not when he can bed-_Gisbourne couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. He swore out a filthy oath again.

"He will. I'd wager my life on it."

Gisbourne glowered at his sister, despising her. "If you can find Hood so easily, than why not just lead me to him? I'll kill him!"

"And let the sheriff and myself miss out on all our fun with him? No, brother. If you want Marian, you must let me do this my own way. After all, my plan can't fail any worse than the sheriff's."

Gisbourne weighed her offer, then made up his mind. "Go," he ordered. "Seduce him. Let him desert and hurt Marian again, so that she'll come crawling to me for comfort. There was something between us, until Hood seduced her with his audacious so called charm. Let her see what kind of man he really is. Go!"

"Yes, brother," Isabella agreed, very excited. Who knew, but in a few hours, her nails might be tearing the flesh on Robin's back and buttocks in her savage love for him. She couldn't wait.


	31. Chapter 31

"Well, don't just stand there, where the sheriff's archers can plug you so full of holes you'll look like a sieve! Come in, come in, come in!"

Matilda greeted Robin with her usual mixture of motherly affection and fond scolding as she ushered him and Kate into her cottage.

Robin smiled courteously at Rosa, and beamed at the sight of her baby Alice. If he would have noticed how the baby held no interest for Kate, he'd question the blond's earlier declaration about wanting chilldren. As it was, he didn't notice, but plunged straight into the reason for his visit.

Matilda heard the urgency in his voice, and quickly gathered the herbs Djaq needed for Bat. Kate sat down beside Rosa, striking up a conversation.

"Does your mum trade in...you know?" she asked Rosa, her grumpy air hiding her embarrassment.

"Trade in what?"

Rosa guessed by Kate's reluctance to speak that the young woman must be "in trouble," and sympathized. "She's got nothing for that," she told Kate, "but you needn't fear. It's hard, I know, but bairns turn out to be a blessing."

"No," Kate snapped. "I want a love potion."

When Rosa followed Kate's eyes boring into Robin, she laughed inwardly. "We can sell you one," she admitted, "but it won't do you any good. Have you seen the way he looks at Lady Marian? No potion, even one made by the feys themselves, could topple that devotion."

"I want one," Kate insisted stubbornly.

"Well then, I'll get it, but I tell you, you're throwing away your money. I've never seen a man so besotted, and he's been that way for years."

Kate smirked. As Allan had once said, it wasn't a good look for her. "Then maybe it's time for a change," she said snippily, exchanging a coin for a vial of golden liquid.

"Slip a few drops into his ale, and good luck," Rosa advised, taking Kate's money.

Across the cottage, Matilda was completing gathering the herbs. "Thank you," Robin said gratefully, as Matilda pressed the ingredients he'd requested into a sack. "Kate, are you ready?"

Kate jumped eagerly to her feet, after hiding the love potion in her boot. "Let's go," she said.

Matilda gazed fondly at Robin one last time today. "What's the matter with your foreign sword, eh? Thought those heathen blades could slice through a silken handkerchief! Isn't that what they say Saladin showed King Richard?"

"They can," Robin boasted. "I was there when Saladin threw a silk in the air and sliced it in two with his scimitar, amazing the King and myself. But why do you ask?"

"Because," the older woman grinned, reaching out a hand to tousle Robin's shaggy hair, "if it can slice through silk, it can chop off some of your silky hair! If your mother could see that head of hair you're wearing now, God rest her sweet soul, I don't know what she'd think!"

"Matilda!" Robin objected, shaking his head to throw off her hand. "My wife won't let me cut it. She happens to like it this way."

"I'm sure she does." Matilda smiled knowingly.

Rosa whispered into Kate's ear. "Did you see the sparkle in his eyes when he mentioned his wife? I tell you, that potion you bought doesn't stand a chance of working."

"We'll just see about that," Kate snapped.

...

Robin and Kate hadn't gotten far, when Robin stopped, then quickly pulled Kate behind a tree.

Kate was excited by Robin manhandling her. Following his gaze, she was as surprised as he to see Isabella of Gisbourne astride a white horse. Isabella slid down from the saddle and tied the reins to a tree not far from where the two outlaws were hiding, then stretched her body luxuriously, lifting her heavy hair off the back of her neck.

"She saw you," Kate hissed. "She's posing."

Kate was correct, but Robin doubted her. "What's she doing here?" he wondered aloud.

His suspicions died when he noticed the bruise on her cheek, brought on when Guy had slapped her. "She's hurt," he said, rising and stepping into the open.

Isabella pretended surprise at seeing him. "Robin!" she cried, also feigning a degree of fear. "Don't hurt me! I'll all alone!"

"You have nothing to fear," he told her, approaching her boldly. More gently, he said, "You've been hurt."

"My louse of a brother," Isabella told him, knowing their common hatred had once drawn them together.

By this time, Kate was slowly strutting toward them, scowling challengingly at Isabella. The look on Isabella's face identically matched Kate's expression of loathing.

"Don't trust her, Robin," she chided. "She's a Gisbourne, and that can only mean trouble."

Ignoring Kate, he found he couldn't take his eyes off the bruise on Isabella's cheek. Treacherous, conniving, and deceitful he knew her to be, yet nothing could excuse a man from striking a woman. His sense of honor and justice clung to him like a thorn in his heel, causing him to tarry now, temporarily forgetting little Bat's needs.

Luckily for the boy, Isabella decided to use him, to work her way back into Robin's arms. "You have my nephew, I believe," she said, bringing Robin back to the here and now. "I heard he's seriously ill, poor child."

Kate shot her a nasty look, warning her not to divulge it was she who had delivered Bat to Nottingham. She needn't have worried. Neither woman wanted Robin to guess their roles in Bat's disappearance.

"We're bringing Djaq medicine we hope will cure him," Robin told her. "In fact, we need to get it to camp right now. Goodbye, Isabella."

Isabella watched him turn to go. In her estimation, he was positively dripping with sexual appeal. Oh, yes, it would definitely be worth Kate's foul glares, when he succumbed to her allure.

"Goodbye, Robin Hood," she uttered seductively. "Take good care of-" _What was the brat's name again? It wouldn't do to get it wrong. Some rodent, wasn't it?_ "Take good care of Bat for me," she said, finally recalling his name.

Despite his hurry, Robin stopped and turned back to face her. "Would you like to see him?" he asked, dismissing a nagging worry that he was making a mistake. "I could take you with us to my camp. Bat needs more people around him who love him."

"Then we agree to a truce between us?" Isabella asked brightly.

"No!" Kate shouted, stamping her foot. "Robin, you can't trust her!"

Isabella resisted her strong urge to claw at the wench's eyes. Composing her face to appear wholesome and pure, she gazed up intently into Robin's eyes, allowing just a hint of her smouldering feelings for him to show. Just enough to interest him, she hoped.

"For Bat's sake, I agree to a truce," Robin said, still plagued by guilt and worry. "Come on, we've wasted too much time talking. Follow me, if you're coming."

"Oh, I'm coming," Isabella thought, a sly smile playing on her lips.


	32. Chapter 32

"Master! You're back! And...WHAT?"

The rest of the outlaws joined Much's utter disbelief when they noticed Isabella accompany Robin and Kate to their camp. All were speechless. At last, the one among them who usually struggled with words managed to find his tongue. "Robin, her we do not like!" Little John shouted, pointing accusingly at Isabella.

"It's alright, John," Robin explained, shame clinging to him. "We've called a truce, for Bat's sake."

Djaq set aside her own disapproval to busily administer the medicine Robin brought to the afflicted child, who sat convulsing on Marian's lap, his thin shoulders wrapped warmly in a blanket.

Isabella pretended concern over the boy, bending over him with a convincingly maternal aspect. Instinctively, Marian held him protectively tighter, glaring into Isabella's face.

Marian couldn't help but feel threatened by the lovely scent, just barely perceptible, clinging to Isabella. Little things, such as the woman's meticulously manicured nails, reminded Marian of her own nails' ragged edges, and the smell of smoke and muddy water that clung to her from living in the forest. She felt threatened by the woman's beauty, and more than angry at Robin for bringing his former paramour and current enemy here.

Robin knew he had earned himself a battle with his wife, but his first concern was for Bat. He'd grown tender hearted toward the lad, and was touched to see the boy's frail hands clutching a second set of pipes.

"Will, thank you," Robin said, so touched he felt close to tears.

"It's the least I could do," Will admitted, bonding even closer to his leader. "Look, Robin. I've started a set of animals for him."

"You are going to be one hell of a father! You know that, right?"

Marian, exhausted from worry and threatened by Isabella, unjustly took her husband's offhand compliment to Will as a personal affront against her inability to provide Robin an heir. Handing Bat over to Djaq's care, she rose and strode angrily toward her husband.

"What world are you living in, that made you think it would be alright to bring _her_ here?" she demanded.

Kate hustled over to Robin, bearing a mug of ale. Not wanting to take any chances, she had dismissed Rosa's instructions of using only a few drops, and had poured the entire love potion into his tankard.

Feeling the need of ale to fortify him against his ensuing argument with his wife, and feeling dry from his trip to Matilda's, Robin thanked Kate and downed the entire mug.

"Just look at her face, Marian," he said smugly, indicating Isabella. "Your former friend, the gallant Sir Guy of Gisbourne, did that to her."

"And you just couldn't wait to point that out to me! Is that why you brought her here?"

The "love potion," administered in all its full strength, began working quickly. Looking at Marian, Robin suddenly realized he wanted her desperately. He didn't care if she was angry at him or not. He loved her and felt his body screaming for her.

"I love you, Marian," he said, with passion. "I want to take you to bed. Now."

Marian recognized the gleam in his eye, not to mention the obvious physical effect as the lacings on his trousers stretched. "Really?" she said, incredulously. "Go throw yourself in the stream."

She turned away from him, embarrassed by his public declaration, believing Isabella's presence somehow responsible for his condition.

Kate kept throwing herself in Robin's way, believing he would fall in love with whatever he looked upon. Finally, Robin had enough of her.

"Get out of my way, you pesky insect!" he ordered Kate. "You're like an annoying fly, always buzzing around me. No matter how many times I try to swat you away, you always return!"

Everyone in the gang fell silent. Robin had never spoken unkindly to her before. Kate, after all, was one of his Locksley villagers, and he always treated his people with courtesy and respect. No one knew that the "love potion" had loosened his tongue, temporarily taking away his control over his words.

"My, my," Isabella was thinking, licking her lips at the sight of Robin's trousers. "This is going to prove even more fascinating than I hoped!"


	33. Chapter 33

Kate stomped away, sulking, determined to get her money back for the failed love potion. After all, Robin hadn't fallen in love with her at all! If anything, he'd treated her nastily! It wasn't fair! Why did Marian get everything she wanted, and Kate nothing? It just wasn't fair!

Robin, under the influence of the "love potion," grabbed Marian and pressed his body hard against hers. "You're incredible, Marian," he told her. "You're lovely and I love you, and I want to..."

Marian blushed scarlet when he said out loud before everyone what he longed to do with her.

"Stop!" she cried, mortified, struggling to free herself from his amorous advances. "Robin, you're drunk!"

"I swear I'm not," he told her. "I've only had that one ale Kate handed me. Come to bed, my love. I can't wait. You're gorgeous! I just want to..."

"Stop!" Marian cried again, confused, annoyed, yet at the same time, intrigued by her husband's bold invitation. But no. Something was definitely wrong with him. Marian was sure he was drunk. When she couldn't break free from his grasp, she kicked his shin as hard as she could. With an anguished cry of pain, he let her go and hobbled a few steps away.

"Master, you're limping!" Much cried out, alarmed.

"Not _all _of him," Allan hooted, grinning broadly.

Isabella understood as little as Marian of Robin's unusual behavior, yet she was fascinated by his bold descriptions of his longings. Now, how to let him know she'd be more than willing to engage in his plans, without letting his cow wife know? She stepped forward, blocking Robin's view of Marian.

"Oh, no," Robin sighed, disgusted. "If it isn't the whore."

Allan whooped with laughter, delighted that Robin had finally bestowed on Isabella the title she so richly deserved.

"Whore?" Isabella repeated, outraged. "How can you say that?"

"It's easy, since it's true," Robin answered smugly.

Limping to Marian, he pursued her as she backed away, all the while declaring, "My love, don't be jealous of her! If I could take back what I did, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I never meant to hurt you, Marian. It meant nothing, I swear it. There was no sharing between us. I was drowning, missing you...dying, and I gave in. I'm sorry! I don't know why she still wants me; it can't have been any fun for her. It was over quickly, and just as quickly forgotten. You alone are my love, Marian. Please believe me, and let me drown myself in you."

Marian felt uncomfortable hearing him discuss his brief affair with Isabella, having put aside the pain it had caused her long ago. How could he speak so openly in front of everyone, like a fool? What was wrong with him? He had to be drunk!

"Angel of England," Isabella sneered, her eyes narrowed. "Bonny sweet Robin. That's what the peasants call you, you know, in their songs and stories. Savior! Saint! But I know better, don't I? I tend to agree with the sheriff! You're no saint, Robin. You're a devil!"

"I'm not, nor a saint. I'm just a man, who made a terrible mistake trying to seek the woman I thought I'd lost in your treacherous flesh. And as for the people calling me 'angel' and "saint', I don't deserve it. All I'm trying my hardest to do is to help those in need. And there's plenty of need, thanks to the sheriff and Prince John. Children's bellies swollen with hunger, good honest working men missing hands or fingers or tongues, cut off for the sheriff's so called justice. If I won't help them, who will? Certainly not you. And not your self serving, murderous brother! Thank God Much stopped him, before he wed Marian!"

Robin turned to Much, tears welling up in his eyes. "Much, you're my best friend. And you're more of a man than I'll ever be."

Much couldn't speak, but only clapsed his emotional friend in a brotherly embrace.

"Marian," Djaq whispered, "I need to speak with you."

"Is it Bat?" Marian asked breathlessly. "Please tell me he's no worse!"

"Bat is better, and sleeping. But I speak of Robin. He is not drunk," Djaq explained, "but he has been drugged."

"Drugged? What do you mean?"

"Here," Djaq said, passing Marian Robin's tankard. "Smell. Taste. You see? Kate must have purchased a 'love potion' from Matilda, and put it in Robin's ale. That explains his strange behavior."

"A love potion?" Marian asked dryly, lifting her eyebrows and giving Kate one of her wilting looks.

"Yes. You need to understand its effects. It cannot create love, but people claim it can because it brings on desire, and also loosens the tongue of the one who drinks it. Robin must speak his mind under its influence, and everything he says, comes straight from his heart. Do you understand?"

Marian nodded. "So, he's speaking the truth, without being able to guard his words?"

"That is correct," the Saracen answered.

Marian smiled slowly. Really, most of the words Robin had spoken to her were lovely. Not taking her eyes off her husband, she asked Djaq, "How long before it wears off?"

Djaq was uncertain. "That depends on the strength of the dose. I would guess by the effects, he drank a very strong dosage."

"Kate deserves to be punished," Marian said, still looking fondly at Robin.

His eyes met hers, and he approached her, still highly amorous.

Marian smiled back at him. "Tell me every single way you feel about me," she whispered in his ear, before taking him by the hand and leading him away.

...

Later, Robin lay sleeping in the waning afternoon sun, while Marian basked in the warmth of the words he had spoken to her.

Their actual lovemaking had been less sweet and fulfilling than usual, for the potion had robbed him of control, but Robin's heartfelt confessions had more than made up for the rushed physical contact.

"You are bright magic to me, Marian," he had told her romantically, "as necessary as the air I breathe. More a part of me than even my bow."

She had forced back her smile at that, not wanting to discourage him from this rare admission of his feelings.

He had gone on to confess he wished his hands were not so calloused, for he wanted to touch her with hands as smooth as her sweet skin, which was satin under his fingertips. No part of her was without wonder to him, her brave and gentle spirit more so even than her body.

Marian listened to these and many other tender confessions, treasuring them closely in her heart, and finding that she loved him even more fiercely than before.

They would beat the odds and have a baby, she thought, renewing her determination not to give up hoping.

Lying in her sleeping husband's strong arms, she thought again on the child whom Gisbourne unknowingly had killed in her womb. A boy...she'd been certain he'd been a boy. "Robin," just like his father, in Heaven now with her father and the angels. She refused to believe their baby could be in Purgatory, no matter what the priests told her. If only her beloved Friar Tuck were here, he'd speak sense to her of God.

Robin stirred in his sleep, then twitched. Marian gently woke him from his nightmare when his head began to thrash from side to side.

"Do you feel better after your nap?" she asked him, feeling suddenly shy.

"I feel strange. Empty. Marian, I'm sorry about...I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she told him, realizing the potion must be wearing off. "Let's get up and see how Bat is. Hopefully, Isabella's disappeared by now. And, Robin?"

"Yes?"

"I absolutely love the callouses on your hands."


	34. Chapter 34

Not bein' funny, but this wasn't the most exciting afternoon he'd spent in his lifetime.

Allan slapped at another insect buzzing around his neck and continued waiting, watching the road through Sherwood from his hiding place beside Little John. To put it bluntly, both men were bored out of their minds. Robin had ordered them to watch the road and rob any rich travellers the two of them could ambush, but so far, not even so much as a tinker had journeyed by.

"Hey, John," Allan called, to pass the time, "I ever tell you the one about the silk merchant in the thunderstorm?"

"No," Little John growled, every bit as bored as Allan.

"Well," Allan began, with a grin, "there was this merchant on his way to London, when this rain storm kicks in. He doesn't want his silks to get ruined, understand, so he bangs on the door of the first house he finds.

" 'What do you want?' the master of the house asks.

" 'I just need a place to sleep tonight, so my silks stay dry. Can I lodge here?'

" 'Yeah,' the man says. 'But you gotta stay clear of my three virgin daughters. I don't let them even look on strangers.' "

Little John laughed appreciatively, anticipating what was coming next.

What he didn't expect was the feel of a cold, wet nose sniffing at his hand, nor the sound of a man clearing his throat, directly behind them.

Both Little John and Allan spun around to see three large slobbering dogs and a ruddy faced, fat friar, smiling jovially at them.

"Excuse me, men," the friar began respectfully. "Forgive me for interrupting your story, but I'm sure it wouldn't do for me to hear the rest. Could either of you direct me to the camp of the outlaw known as 'Robin Hood?' I was told if I ventured through Sherwood, Robin would find me, but so far, I've eluded him. I thought perhaps you men might know where I might find him?"

Before the two baffled men could answer, Robin's voice sang out, "Turn around, Tuck. It seems I found you, and I wasn't even looking."

Friar Tuck's three dogs perked up their ears, sniffed the air, then took off running toward Robin, their tails beating the air so furiously it appeared they were created soley to propel the dogs forward.

Robin laughed boyishly as the dogs nearly tackled him to the ground, charging him by throwing their front paws on his chest in their enthusiastic attempts to lick his face.

"Ceasar, Brownie, Thor," Robin laughed, greeting the dogs like the old friends they were. "They're getting old, Tuck! They should have caught my scent long before they heard my voice."

"Except for the fact you knew enough to stand upwind of them," Tuck smiled, tears of joy springing to his eyes. "Cock Robin! My, it's a blessing to lay eyes on you! You were a boy, the last time we met!"

Tuck remembered the young lord with the bold bright eyes, kneeling solemnly beside his servant Much as Tuck prayed desperately over them. No sooner was the prayer concluded, then they climbed onto their horses to journey away, joining King Richard's battle to recover Jerusalem and the Holy Selpuchre.

"How was the Holy Land, Robin?" Tuck asked now, longing to learn more of the land where Jesus walked.

"Bloodthirsty," Robin answered, effectively closing the subject by the bitter air of command in his tone.

_War has changed him, _Tuck thought, _though there's still plenty of the brave idealistic boy left in him._

Robin proudly introduced Little John and Allan to Friar Tuck, explaining to them how he knew the man.

"Tuck here was Curtail Friar at Fountains Abbey," he explained.

"Curtail Friar? What?" Allan asked, not comprehending.

"It means I wear my robe shorter," Tuck told him. "I used to tuck my long robe up in my belt, which is how I was given my name, but the abbot objected. But I never could get used to long skirts swishing around my ankles, so I cut off the bottom, and here I stand before you, a 'Curtail Friar.' "

"And a true friend," Robin assured them. "I've known Tuck nearly all my life! He was Sir Edward and Marian's private Confessor."

"Whoo hoo!" Allan cried. Turning to Robin, he asked, "He ever tell you what she confessed to?"

"Of course not!" Tuck scolded. "That was strictly between herself and God."

"Yeah, well, it probably wasn't all that interesting anyway. Probably more along the lines of pushing Robin out her window or something like that. Am I right?"

"You know Marian well, young man," Tuck said with a smile. "I would be overjoyed to see her again."

"She's my wife now," Robin said proudly, vigorously petting Brownie, his favorite of Tuck's three dogs.

"Congratulations! Oh, my son, you have no idea how happy that news makes me!"

"I'll take you to her. Come on!"

"Robin!" Little John stopped his leader with a shout. "You're not leading a stranger to camp, with no blindfold."

"I told you, John. Tuck's not a stranger, he's a trusted friend. But alright. On second thought, Tuck, John's right. Allan, blindfold him. This way, Tuck, if the sheriff ever questions you concerning my whereabouts, you can honestly tell him you don't know where I live. Alright? Well then, just grab hold of my belt and follow me!"


	35. Chapter 35

When Kate became angry, she stayed angry. And she was angry now.

She had no interest in holding Bat when he whimpered from the pain still lingering from Isabella's poison, but holding a grudge was second nature to her. And the grudge she held today was against no one but Robin.

Although Robin had sincerely apologized for insulting her, unaware he'd been under the influence of a love potion she'd tricked him into drinking, Kate wasn't about to forgive him. Not yet, anyway. He'd called her a pesky insect, after all, when all she ever wanted to be to him was his love and helpmate.

Worse still, she'd paid for the potion with money that was supposed to go to her own family and neighbors in Locksley, and Robin hadn't even fallen in love with her! Instead, he'd been all over Marian. As usual!

Kate was sick of Marian, and how Robin always looked at her, held her hand, and kissed her when he thought no one was looking. But Kate saw him, and she didn't think it fair. Not one bit fair for Robin to kiss Marian so longingly, and even seem to _enjoy _it, when Marian only had brown hair, while Kate was blond. No fair!

But Kate would show him! She'd do something to make him angry at her, and earn his attention. Let him be mad, and see how it felt! So there!

Kate sat back, silent while the other outlaws interacted with the fat friar who had come to visit, as an idea to strike back at Robin formed in her head.

...

Tuck's dogs lay stretched out at his feet while he laughed over ale and the friendly company of Robin, Marian, and the rest of Robin Hood's outlaw gang in Sherwood Forest. It felt wonderful, like reuniting with family and making the acquaintaince of new friends. Only Kate, whom Tuck remembered as a Locksley serf, was being unpleasant, and Tuck remembered her as mostly being unpleasant anyway. He had no cause to suspect how vindictive she was feeling.

Much, as usual, was talking, still apprehensive of Tuck's dogs.

"I don't see how you sleep at night," Much was saying, "with _dogs _hovering nearby, licking their jowls, probably picturing you as their next meal."

"Ceasar, Brownie, and Thor make excellent companions," Tuck explained. "They understand English, you see, but don't speak a word of it. Who could ask for better companionship than that?"

"Yes. Well, I prefer my companions with less inclination to bite, thank you!" Much proclaimed.

"It's true they have been known to bite," Tuck conceeded, "making them first rate protectors as well as loyal friends."

Marian bent down to stroke Thor's golden head. She felt happy and peaceful in Tuck's presence, as if a missing puzzle piece from her past had been restored. "After war, and battling the sheriff's men, surely, Much, you're not afraid of three gentle dogs!"

"How did you and Robin meet?" Djaq asked the friar, glad to steer the conversation away from dogs and religion.

Tuck laughed jovially. "I'm delighted you asked that," he said. "Our first meeting may not have been the most pleasant, but it gave me insight into the character of the boy who would grow up to be known far and wide as 'Robin Hood, the people's hope.' "

"Tell the story, Friar," Marian invited, hoping to take Bat's mind off his pain.

Marian was sitting next to Tuck, holding Bat on her lap, while Robin sat on the other side of her. She could tell Tuck mistakenly believed the boy belonged to herself and Robin, but was that really so false? Bat needed a family, after all, and they were happy to provide the love and care he needed. God was good, Marian firmly believed, and perhaps Bat was the answer to her prayers for a child.

Tuck laughed gently, recalling that summer day many years back, when he'd met a proud young boy by a stream, and both had learned the lesson never to judge a book by its cover.

"I was new to the shire, and to my orders," Tuck explained. "And how my freshed shaved tonsure still itched! Of course, the day being warm, I overindulged on food and drink at a nearby inn, and felt an afternoon nap was just what I needed to refresh myself, before journeying on to Fountains Abbey. So, finding a comfortable spot near the edge of the forest, at the bank of a gently flowing stream, I settled down, content to rest my aching feet.

"But was I allowed to rest, undisturbed? No! I was not! Just after I'd dozed off, I was startled awake, rudely, I might add, by a cold splash of water over the top of my head!

"It seems I was attempting to nap at the very place a young scalliwag judged the very best swimming hole in Nottinghamshire. I listened, as the long legged lanky boy, more colt than boy, really, ordered me to be off, so he and his friend could swim.

"Well, I wasn't about to take orders from a mere boy. 'I answer to God, not little boys,' I told the lad proudly. I suffered from a touch of arrogance myself in those days, though it pains me to admit it now.

"But my arrogance was nothing compared to that boy's! I only pray that today, he, too, has matured as a Christian, well past arrogance's snare."

"Keep praying, Father," Marian said, smiling teasingly into Robin's eyes. "He's still ensnared."

"Get on with the story!" Much encouraged. "Tell everybody, Tuck, how Robin made you carry us one by one across the stream, and how you threw him into the water, and how his lord father showed up, indignant, and how..."

"Much, shut up!" most of the outlaws cried.

"You're getting ahead of my story," Tuck chuckled. "Just like old times. Now, where was I? Oh, yes! I had just been startled awake by that dash of cold water, and I faced this boy, ordering me to be off, just so he and his friend could swim.

"Now, his friend looked a good sort, timid, nervous, and not wishing to offend a man of the cloth. But the one issuing the orders was over bold, and proud, and cocky."

"In my defense," Robin spoke up, "I thought you were one of those holy men who feed off the poor, and never give back. You were snoring off the effects of too much ale, after all. How was I to know you were a decent man, who loves the poor every bit as much as a fine jaunt of venison?"

"Speaking of venison," Tuck added, "when do we eat? Life in the forest must yield you some pleasures! I'm sure a table groaning under the king's deer partially compensates for your harsh living conditions."

"We'll eat after you've finished your story, right, Much?" Robin replied.

Much looked nervous. "Well, yes. Um, that is to say...dinner will be nourishing, if not filling! And I have salt, so whatever I cook, will taste...well, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Salty?" Robin suggested, winking at Marian and Bat.

"Hmph! Brilliant, Master! I could have come up with that! Really...'salty!' If you can't come up with any word better than that, I don't know why people call you clever!"

"Much, shut up!" Allan repeated.

"I'm not saying anything! I'm not saying anything!" Much muttered.

Tuck cleared his throat. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes."

Kate barely listened to the tale. While Robin and his men were smiling over Tuck's story, she slipped away, opened a chest, pulled forth the Great Pact of Nottingham, and slipped the rolled parchment into her boot.

Yes, indeed. She'd get back at Robin for being mean, and burn his stupid pact. That was sure to make him mad, since he seemed to care more for it than he cared for her. She'd show him, once and for all.


	36. Chapter 36

"Now, let me get this straight," Allan commented, referring to the story Tuck had just told. "Robin doused you with water, tricked you into carrying Much on your back across a stream, then made you cross back again so you could carry him too, but you tricked him by dumping him in the water when you were halfway across? Good one!"

Tuck nodded. "And didn't he come up sputtering! But he only stayed angry a moment, and then I learned what he was made of!"

"I know what he's _full_ of," Allan joked, "but what's he made of?"

"Kindness, generosity, good humor, and nobility," Tuck answered, smiling affectionately at Robin. "You see, once he realized I'd tricked him in turn, he laughed heartily, and we became friends. Didn't we, Cock Robin?"

"I haven't been called that since I was a boy," Robin said, smiling. "And Allan, not a word! But, yes, I suppose that marked the beginning of our friendship."

"And Robin," Much added, "don't forget the part about your father showing up, with Thornton. The Earl was fit to be tied, because he actually caught Tuck dumping his son and heir right into the stream."

"But wasn't the whole point of Robin being there so that he could go swimming anyway?" Djaq asked.

"Not in his clothes," Tuck explained. "At first glance, his garments didn't appear out of the ordinary, but they were of the finest cut and fabrics. I ruined them, you see, but Robin refused to let his father chide me. That impudent boy whom I mistakenly thought was so spoiled, boldly faced his father and took the blame for my action."

"Seemed only fair," Robin said, grinning sheepishly, "after making you breathe so hard, wading through the stream with Much, and then me, on your back."

Allan took another swig of ale, then blurted out, "Since it's such a day for stories, I ever tell you lads the one about-"

"Not in front of the boy," Marian quickly silenced him.

"Naw, this is a real story, not one of my more excitin' tales. I couldn't help but think how different Robin's upbringin' was from Giz's."

"What do you know about Gisbourne's past, Allan?" Robin asked, turning suspicious and grim.

"Ah, not much. But one night, Giz grew talkative, which was weird, since usually, he was a man of few words. And he told me how he and Vaisey linked up."

A hush seemed to fall over the forest. Robin leaned forward, the look in his eyes turning dangerous. "Tell us, Allan," he said, his voice low.

Marian laid her hand over her husband's arm. "Perhaps we should take Bat for a walk," she suggested. "I think he's heard enough stories for one day. Haven't you, dear?"

Bat nodded his head, and Robin resigned himself to the wisdom in Marian's words. "Alright, my love," he agreed rising, knowing that Much would fill him in later anyway. That is, if Much would be able to remember the details of Allan's story and not mix them up with something else.

"Lovely little family," Tuck sighed, watching the trio depart.

"Bat's not their's," Kate spat out, bitterness coating her tone.

"No? Pity. Well, I'm sure it won't be long," Tuck chuckled. "But back to your story. I confess, I always wondered how two such inhuman people could join forces."

Allan took another drink and began his tale.

"Giz told me it happened in York. Vaisey, rising from obscurity, was climbin' through the ranks, gettin' richer and more powerful, but his methods earned him enemies, if you know what I mean. No surprises there, but he needed a protector, and picked one out from the young men trainin' to be knights.

"Giz himself was down on his luck, having lost his lands to the church, 'cause of his father. He had some money in his purse from sellin' his sister, though who would buy her musta been a rank dumbass. He also had his father's sword, but nothin' else. So, he made his way to the city, and presented himself for trainin'. His title was enough to admit him, but the others trainin' laughed at him behind his back.

"You can imagine how Giz took that. Told me he couldn't wait for his chance to show them all.

"One day, he was scheduled to practice fightin' the one Vaisey had his eye on, and not bein' funny, but I don't need to explain all that meant! This rich boy was the strongest and loudest of the lot makin' sport of Giz. He was like a third son or somethin', with nothin' to inherit, so Vaisey thought it'd be easy to convince him to work for him, with a little persuasion.

"Vaisey was there to watch his 'champion' fight, and he didn't know anything yet about Giz.

"Giz told me the buggar fightin' him taunted him to his face, quietly though, so nobody else could hear. But then, Giz 'showed' him. He brought his sword down on his head, and told me it was beautiful to watch the blood dripping from his helmet. And then, since the boy was down, he kept beatin' on him and beatin' on him, until he...he sliced him clean through.

"The master teachin' 'em all was screamin' for Giz to stop, and sent guards to pull him off. Giz said he didn't care what happened to him. He'd had his revenge, and showed everyone what would happen if they mocked him again. But he was hauled off to the dungeon. Then, at his trial, Vaisey was there, witnessing for him. Lied, sayin' he saw the fight and that Giz only slew the buggar in self defense. And the sheriff and nobles believed him, and let Giz go free.

"And that's how they met, with Vaisey impressed by Giz, singling him out as the one he wanted to protect him."

Allan looked around at the sober faces of the outlaws. "Oi! Don't look so grim! I'm only tellin' you what Giz told me!"

Kate hadn't been listening. She hated Gisbourne, and couldn't care less about his past. Her piercing eyes followed the path Robin had followed as he strolled away with Marian and Bat.

" 'Lovely little family,' " the fat friar had called them. Damn! She'd show Robin! She'd burn the Pact tonight, and that would make him take notice of her!


	37. Chapter 37

After feasting on the buck Robin had shot in honor of Tuck's unexpected visit, Marian privately asked the friar whether he would mind taking her Confession.

"I agree readily, my child," Tuck responded, "on the condition that I first make a confession to you."

"What is it?" Marian asked, leading Tuck to a place of relative privacy.

"I wanted to let you know why I left the shire without telling you goodbye, just when you seemed to need me most."

It was true that Marian had needed Tuck's solid presence at that time, and she had worried when he suddenly turned up missing. Her father had assured her nothing ill had befallen the monk, but had said no more than that.

"I left upon the advice of your father, God rest his soul," Tuck told her kindly. "The new sheriff was suspicious of me for not telling him all I learned from your father's Confessions, and was planning to have me tortured to draw them out of me."

"Believing you knew plans to overthrow him," Marian said, saddened and angry all at once.

"And of course, I didn't. Had I been unscrupulous and told the sheriff what your worthy father confessed to, he would have laughed to hear such small sins. But Sheriff Vaisey had no sense of what drives good people to make Confession. So now you understand why I needed to disappear. I hope you will forgive me."

By way of forgiveness, Marian reached out to hold the corpulent friar in her arms. He was more family than priest to her, and it filled her heart with a sense of peace to have him back.

"And why did you return?" she asked politely.

Tuck laughed jovially at her question. "Everywhere I went, the talk is all of Robin Hood! The very name inspires hope, and keeps the downtrodden and oppressed going. I confess, at first I discounted the tales of this bold outlaw who robbed from the rich to feed the poor, but when I discovered he was Robin of Locksley, I took notice! No one but our Robin could do such brave, audacious, and clever feats! I had to journey here and see for myself."

"Robin wouldn't agree about it being 'no one' but himself. We're a team, you know, all of us in the greenwood."

Tuck smiled. Still competitive with Robin, was she? That should make for a lively marriage! It was a mighty good thing Robin was blessed with such a good nature! And sweet Marian, too, for that matter.

"Well now," Tuck said, getting down to business, "I believe you have something you wish to unburden to me, and to God."

"Several things, really. It's been a long time since I made Confession, father."

Tuck arranged his face to one of serenity, and waited, longing to offer absolution to this lovely young woman he loved like a daughter.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," Marian began soberly.

"What sins have you committed, my child?"

Marian drew in her breath, then released it slowly. What she had to say was difficult, especially to one whose good opinion she valued so highly.

It helped that Thor and Ceasar lay stretched out at her feet. Brownie wouldn't leave Robin's side, now that they'd been reunited. Marian reached down to stroke Thor's head.

"I've lied, stolen, and even killed, father, but those crimes were done for justice, and therefore, do not burden my soul. What plagues me are my willfulness toward my father, and...and one other crime."

"Well, let us resolve the question of your willfulness first, shall we?"

Marian went on to tell him how the last words her father ever heard from her lips were, "I'm ashamed of you sometimes." She still had not forgiven herself for that, despite the comfort Robin brought her with her father's final message.

Tuck was touched, and pleased to be in a position to help.

"You have no idea how many times your father confessed to me the sin of pride."

Marian looked surprised. "My father was the least proud man I've ever known!" she objected.

"His pride was all for you. He was constantly bragging to me of your beauty and accomplishments, but mostly of your spirit. He admired you, my child, as much as he loved you. And I think you know how deeply his love ran."

Marian swallowed. "Thank you," she almost whispered. "You have no idea what that means to me."

Tuck only smiled. "There was something else, I believe?" he prompted.

Marian cast her eyes down on the two dogs at her feet. This confession was a bit more difficult to admit.

Taking a deep breath, she charged ahead. "I sinned carnally outside the marriage bed," she said, her words spilling out so quickly they almost seemed to trip over one another. "I offered myself to Robin before we were man and wife, and I...I think God's punishing us by not giving us children."

She lifted her eyes to Tuck's face, her expression pleading with him to assure her it couldn't be so.

Before he could offer her words of comfort, the sounds of shouting erupted from the outlaw camp. Ceasar and Thor lifted their heads, sniffing the air.

"What's happening?" Marian asked, jumping to her feet and running toward the shouts.

Tuck followed far behind, but when he reached the others, his eyes beheld Kate looking nasty and defiant, the others staring flabbergasted at her, and Robin sitting by the fire with his head in his hands.

"What's going on?" Marian demanded.

"Unbelievable!" Much shouted. "Kate's...Kate's burned the Pact!"


	38. Chapter 38

Marian froze as Much's words sank in. Then, white hot fury overtook her. Like a loosed arrow, she shot towards Kate and knocked her to the ground.

"You stupid, stupid girl!" she shouted, sitting astride the flawling girl's body as she slapped her face.

Robin grabbed Marian by her arms and pulled her to her feet. Although Kate was whining, no one made a move to help her. Allan was actually smiling.

Struggling to be free, Marian cried out, "Get off me! Robin, she burned the Pact!"

"I know," he told her firmly. "But that doesn't give us cause to hurt her."

Marian's fury found a new home in the man who held her. "My father gave his life for that Pact, and you defend her?"

"He died a hero, Marian, but we don't need it any more. Alright?"

"How can you say that, and let me go! You are a fool!"

"The King has all the proof he needs against the sheriff and Gisbourne. The arrow wound on his back is enough to condemn them a thousand times over."

The outlaws fell silent, as relief over the truth in Robin's words sank in. Much, of course, was the first to break the silence.

"Well, I must say, I am glad! I'd forgotten that! I mean, I hadn't forgotten the sheriff shot the King, I'd just forgotten- Oh! He's crying!"

Everyone seemed to notice Bat's tears at the same time. Marian shook herself free from Robin's hold, and the couple rushed to the weeping boy, crouching down on either side of him.

"We're sorry," Marian told him, gently wiping away his tears. "We didn't mean to make you cry."

"It's alright," Robin said, smiling kindly into the boy's eyes. "Sometimes my wife and I have words, but that doesn't mean we've stopped loving each other. And it goes no farther than arguing. You have my word on that."

There was something about the way Robin talked to him that always made Bat feel special. He was consoled. Blinking away the last of his tears, he gave Robin and Marian his shy smile.

Marian's heart soared as she took the boy in her arms. Robin's brilliant smile seemed to cast sunshine over the forest. Reaching down to tousle the boy's hair, he proclaimed, "If only the rest of our troubles were so easily solved!"

Brownie threw his front paws on Robin's chest and licked his face, making Robin's laughter bubble over like a boy's. It proved so infectious, everyone but Kate either laughed or smiled.

Kate was even angrier than before. Pulling herself up, she rose and strode to face Friar Tuck.

"They're living in sin," she spat out, wiping the smile from Tuck's face. "They say they're married, but they're not!"

"Not this again. Shut up," Allan fumed, weary from Kate's bitterness.

"We are married," Marian corrected her, trying to control her anger for Bat's sake.

"Where's your ring? Hmm? I don't see any ring!"

"I sent it to Germany, to help free the King," Marian told her, with a mixture of pride and sadness.

She had loved that emerald ring from the first moment Robin slipped it on her finger, in the topmost branches of a tree. She'd worn it whenever they stole their few precious moments alone together, and had been overjoyed when they'd recovered it from Isabella. But then, she sacrificed it to help bring the King home, hoping he would indeed make it back to England alive.

And now, that screeching scarecrow of a woman had burned the Pact, for some unknown reason, wiping out further proof of the Black Knights, and assurance of the outlaws' pardons. Robin had spoken truth when he'd said the King's wound was proof against the sheriff and Gisbourne's treason, but the Pact would have gone a long way to secure the pardon the outlaws needed. And now, thanks to Kate, it was nothing but ashes.

And now, she dared accuse them of living in sin? If Bat wasn't watching, Marian would fling herself at Kate again and knock her senseless.

"Kate," Robin was asking, "why are you doing this?"

Kate marched straight up to Robin and stared into his eyes. He looked so confused. How could he not know, she wondered. With a deep breath, she stood on tiptoe and pecked at his lips.

Robin took a step back, looking surprised and upset. This was not the result Kate had dreamed of!

"Kate," he told her passionately, "you've got to forget this! I'm married! I'm very happily married! I love Marian. I always have. I always will. If you cannot stop, I'm sending you away."

The other outlaws had to bite their tongues to hold back their cheers. Much even crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping against hope that they might finally be rid of her.

"Not bein' funny, but I hear Kirklees Abbey has a vacancy," Allan suggested.

That decided Robin. "Tuck," he said. "Will you kindly escort Kate to Kirklees?"

Marian smiled gratefully at her husband. She made up her mind to reward him warmly as soon as they could slip away together.

Kate was screeching. "No! I won't go! You can't do this to me! You need me!"

"You'll be safe at Kirklees, so long as you stay there," Robin told her. He felt a lightness of heart he couldn't explain. "And when the King returns, you can go back home to Locksley."

_And so can I,_ he was thinking. _With my wife._

He'd make King Richard believe him somehow, with or without the Pact. The King trusted him. And as Marian's father had once said, it was good to dream.


	39. Chapter 39

"Anything I want?" Robin asked Marian, grinning wickedly. "Anything at all?"

"Anything."

Hand in hand, yet taking frequent stops to engage in kissing and consequently, mussing each other's hair, Marian led Robin away from the other outlaws, on a brisk trot through Sherwood.

Not that she ever denied him anything he ventured in private, unless she was angry with him. They both had passionate natures and thirsted for adventure, yet shared the same sense of decency, in privacy as well as in public. But it was fun to pretend to grant him something out of the ordinary, to thank him for ridding the forest of Kate.

"Alright," Robin announced, his eyes twinkling with fun. "I've decided what I want."

Marian waited expectantly, growing nervous when he chuckled down at her. "Well," she demanded impatiently, "aren't you going to tell me what it is?"

With a playful tap on the tip of her nose, Robin winked and said, "Seeing as it's such a warm day, I think we should go for a swim."

"No wonder you stopped here by the stream," Marian realized, smiling, but still peering all around. Every time she bathed, she worried that Allan might be spying on her. "Are you sure there's no one looking?"

"You know my keen sense of hearing, Marian. There's not another living soul within miles." Taking her in his arms, he kissed her romantically and said, "It'll be fun. Trust me."

"It could be a lot worse, I suppose," she said, excited by the adventure, and her desire for him.

Robin quickly shed his clothes and dove under water before Marian had finished unlacing her bodice. He emerged shivering, shaking his head vigorously to expel the water dripping from his hair.

"Is it terribly cold?" she asked.

"Only at first. I'm getting used to it now. And watching you undress is bound to warm me up!"

Marian smiled and rolled her eyes at him, gave a quick glance over both shoulders to be sure of their continued privacy, then slithered out the rest of her clothes. Unlike her husband, she couldn't throw herself into the icy water. Wading toward him, she grimaced at every step, as the cold water seemed to stab right through her.

Robin swam quickly to her, gliding effortlessly through the water, as beautifully as he did everything else, and seized her around her waist.

"Robin of Locksley!" she threatened, squirming to free herself. "Don't you dare! I'm not ready yet! Don't you dare throw me under!"

"What? And let you out of my grasp? Would I do that to you?"

"You would, and laugh about it for days! Ooh!" A wave splashed against her spine, causing her to cling to him.

"It's easier if you take it all at once," Robin told her. "Ready?"

"NO!"

"One...two..."

Holding onto her squirming torso, Robin dunked under water, dragging her down with him.

Rising again to the surface, Robin said with a devilish grin, "There now! That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Marian's teeth were chattering, but she'd stopped struggling. "It was despicable," she teased him. "Just like the fool I married."

They enjoyed several heated kisses, effectively warming themselves and each other.

"I don't want to rush this," Robin murmured into her wet hair. "I feel bad about how I raced through things the other day."

"You weren't to blame. You were under the influence of Kate's love potion."

"WHAT?"

Robin released his wife, completely taken aback by what he'd just heard.

The expression on Marian's face told him she hadn't been joking.

"Well," he said, still in shock, "it's a good thing I sent her away. I had no idea she felt that way! Did you guess?"

For the second time in as many minutes, Marian rolled her eyes. "Everyone knew, Robin. It was obvious."

He cringed. "And I was hoping Much would forget about his long lost spy and fall for Kate."

"Some friend you are," Marian shot back, splashing his face and then swimming away.

Robin easily caught up to her and pulled her to him again. "I was going to challenge you to a race, Marian, but it hardly seems fair. You're a pathetic swimmer, I'm afraid."

"I'm not. And to prove it, I challenge you. Now, let me go!"

"As my lady commands."

Without warning, Robin stood in the water and tossed Marian across the stream.

As her body sailed through the air, Marian squealed so loudly with delight, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, secretly trekking through the forest searching again for "Hood," did not fail to hear her.

Lifting his crossbow, he continued his slow, cautious journey, quivering with anticipation that he might just be on the verge of slaying the outlaw and gaining his prize, the woman whose voice he'd just heard.


	40. Chapter 40

If only the water weren't so cold, Marian thought it would feel like Heaven to be clinging so lovingly to her husband, weightlessly bobbing up and down in the gently lapping waves of the stream.

"So, you like my idea after all," Robin said charmingly, not waiting for Marian's response before swooping in for a warm, lingering, heartfelt kiss.

"You know you just wanted to show off again," she teased back, holding his adoring gaze with happy, sparkling eyes. "I hate to admit it, but you swim as well as you do eveything else. Well, almost everything."

"Meaning I do some things even better?"

"Meaning you fail at some. Epically."

"What do I fail at? Name one thing."

"You were certainly thick headed when it came to Kate. Not to mention your ridiculous struggle over figures."

"I thought I said one thing. Besides, I banished Kate, and what do figures matter anyway, here in the forest?" Grinning wickedly, he continued, "In fact, there's one figure I think you'll agree I'm pretty handy with."

Marian squirmed deliciously closer under his expertly trailing fingers, then couldn't resist kissing him eagerly. Pulling away for air, she let her eyes dance over him, her head and heart reeling from his exquisite male beauty.

"Come on, let's get out," Robin decided, every bit as eager for her. Halfway to the bank, however, he stopped, holding up a hand as he listened intently to the sounds of the forest.

"What is it?" Marian whispered, trusting his instincts.

"Hurry into your things, and by all means, stay behind me."

His face and voice were so intense, Marian knew danger must be close. How Robin knew, she could only guess, but she obeyed for once, hating the thought of being attacked while still naked.

It was no easy task to wriggle into their clothing, dripping wet as they were, but they managed it in record time. Robin nocked an arrow to his bow and held it in readiness, keeping Marian behind him as he wheeled slowly around, studying the forest for the intruder he sensed was near.

Before Marian knew what was happening, Robin fired a shot, even as a crossbow arrow landed a few feet in front of him. A loud roar of pain told them that Robin, at least, had hit his invisible target.

"Whoever he is, he's a lousy shot," Robin smirked.

"Are you sure there's only one?" Marian demanded to know, her fear making her sound angry.

"One here, at least. Better stay close, in case his 'friends' have fanned out, searching for us. Come on, let's see who our coward is."

Loud swearing from the foliage informed Marian their would be assassin was still alive.

"I was aiming for his thigh," Robin told her, as they hurried toward the voice. "Let's see how accurate I was, shall we?"

"How could you aim, when you couldn't even see him?" Marian wanted to know.

"You forget. I'm Robin Hood."

If Marian hadn't felt so vulnerable, she would have rolled her eyes at her husband's smug and self satisfied attitude. As it was, she felt angry, violated, and frightened for almost being captured, or worse, by whomever had shot at them. If Robin hadn't heard or sensed the danger, and they'd have been in the stream, he wouldn't have been able to reach his bow, and they would have been...

Robin saw through the mask of bravery Marian was attempting to wear, and dropped his own mask of smugness. "Hey," he said gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb, "It's alright. We're safe, my love. It's alright."

Another shouted curse from the foliage made them both freeze, as they realized just how serious the attempted attack had been.

"Hood!" the familiar voice roared. "Damn you to Hell!"

Robin's blood boiled over at the sound of his enemy's voice. "Go back to camp, Marian," he ordered. "I'll handle this."

"And what if I meet one of his men along the way? I didn't have the foresight to bring along my bow."

Robin knew she was stalling, but her words had merit. If Gisbourne hadn't acted alone, Robin needed her to stay with him, to protect her. But he didn't want her to come face to face with Gisbourne, either.

"Let's both go back to camp," he decided instead. "He's not going anywhere."

"HOOD!" the voice roared again.

Robin lifted his own voice in mockery. "Patience, Gisbourne! I know it's a virtue you rarely practice, much like all the other virtues listed in the Bible! I'll get around to you, after I've escorted _my wife_ home!"

Marian couldn't ignore how Robin had emphasized "my wife." Nor could she understand his continual, unfounded jealousy against Guy. She believed her feelings should be obvious, now that they were married!

But the thing to remember now was that a man, no matter his crimes, lay helpless and bleeding, somewhere close.

"We can't just leave him, Robin!" Marian insisted. "I know he's cruel, and our enemy, but we can't let him bleed to death! It's inhuman!"

Marian felt herself stiffen at the cold sarcasm in Robin's reply. "Shall we go to the sheriff then, and present ourselves to inform him your good friend Guy of Gisbourne failed in his cowardly attempt to kill us?" Robin chuckled snidely. "Is that your plan? Bad idea."

"Grow up. But if you won't help a fellow human being who might otherwise bleed to death all alone in the woods, then I'll just have to do it alone."

So saying, she shoved her shoulder against his and strode past him, toward Gisbourne's screaming curses.

Robin uttered his own curse under his breath, and angrily ran after her.


	41. Chapter 41

Robin quickly caught up to Marian, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back to face him.

"I'd thought you would have learned by now," he shouted at her. "You can't go charging in to face him, Marian! Especially not unarmed! What's it going to take to get you to understand? Does he have to kill you in cold blood a second time, or would this make the third?"

"We can't just let him bleed to death! I thought you were a better man than that!"

"I wasn't planning to! Just let me handle this my own way. I can't let him take you away from me again!"

Robin's voice trailed off, and Marian's anger vanished when she saw the hurt, desperate look in his eyes.

His pain shot straight through her, making her shudder. Then, summoning her strength, she gently took his face in her hands and quietly pleaded, "Listen!"

Marian poured herself out to him through her kiss, trying to make him feel the depth of her love. She felt Robin's lips return her kiss, communicating his own love and need for her. Time stood still, and Gisbourne's shouted curses were forgotten in the beauty of the moment.

"I'd thought _you _would have learned by now," she lovingly confided to him, tenderly mimicking his own words. "Both of us know we belong together. Nothing can tear us apart."

"We were so happy! A few moments ago we were going to..."

Despite the situation, and Robin's unmasked vulnerability, Marian cracked a smile. "As soon as we can," she assured him. "But first things first. A human being is hurting, and we need to help him."

"You're determined to face him?"

Marian nodded her head. "He needs help," she said.

Robin blew the air out of his cheeks, knowing he was beaten. "Get behind me, then," he ordered. "His aim with that crossbow's bound to improve, at close range."

Marian had forgotten the crossbow. Surely Guy wouldn't...but then, she never believed he would have stabbed her with his sword, either.

"He's more likely to shoot you than me," she warned her husband. "Maybe you should give me your bow, and let me protect you."

Robin ignored her suggestion. Since she was determined to face Gisbourne, he decided they might as well have it out as soon as possible.

"HOOD!" Gisbourne roared again.

"We're coming in, Gisbourne," Robin warned. "Drop your weapons, if you know what's good for you. Make no mistake, if you try anything, I'll shoot you so full of arrows you'll look like a hedgehog."

Marian had heard that clever warning before, but it was new to Guy. He sneered, but wasn't about to comply.

"I don't take orders from filthy outlaws," Gisbourne bellowed.

All at once, Robin appeared before him, pointing an arrow straight between his eyes. In spite of himself, Gisbourne nearly choked on his fear.

"You're in luck," Robin smirked. "I'm not filthy. In fact, I just took a bath. Now, I suggest you do as I said, and drop your weapons."

Robin tossed his head sideways, indicating where Gisbourne should throw down the crossbow. Water droplets from his hair splashed onto Gisbourne, reminding him that Hood had just been cavorting with Marian in the stream.

Marian! Gisbourne saw her directly behind Hood, holding onto him. Her hair was wet as well, but their clothes were dry, meaning...Gisbourne let out an animal cry and aimed his weapon.

Quicker than lightening, the crossbow was knocked from his hands by an arrow shot from Robin Hood's bow.

"I warned you to throw down your weapons," Robin snarled. "If you won't do it your way, we'll just have to do it mine. Sword, now, if you please."

Marian couldn't take her eyes off the man who haunted her nightmares, wounded now and pinned to a tree with an arrow through his thigh. She could not understand the lure the man held for her, for she despised him, hating him for his cruelty and his hideous obession over her.

His wound was bleeding, and she needed to stop the flow, but now that she faced him, she couldn't bring herself to draw near enough to touch him. His face was pale, washed in pain, and the scar Robin had once carved in his cheek stood out like a river of blood. His eyes were cold, cruel, and steely grey, filled with hatred and accusation, yet there was pain behind the cruelty, pain for her so called betrayal.

Gisbourne made no move to throw away his sword. With one fluid movement, Robin swooped down and removed it himself, then handed it to Marian.

"You have no idea how much I want to see her run you through," Robin told him. "Justice for what you did to her."

Marian laid the sword aside, then dropped silently to her knees beside her husband's enemy, trying not to feel. Robin continued to cover her, his arrow aimed directly at Gisbourne's heart.

"Lay so much as a finger on her, and you're a dead man," Robin threatened.

"You think I want your whore?" Gisbourne sneered. "You sullied her, Hood, but know this. She's a liar, as well as a whore. Don't believe her lies, when she tells you you're the only man she spreads her legs for. You'll never know, will you, whether I enjoyed her, too?"

Gisbourne flung his head to the side when an arrow from Robin's bow graized his cheek, leaving a scar to match his existing one.

Robin's fury was too raw for words, but Marian couldn't resist saying, even as she removed the arrow sticking in his thigh and washed and wrapped his wound, "He knows the truth, because I love him. I never cared for you. How could I? You're cruel and evil. You crush all that is good, in your quest for power. You're a coward, Guy, and I hate you."

"You led me to believe you cared for me!" Gisbourne cried out wretchedly.

"And you led me to believe there was good in you, somewhere. But there isn't."

"Lady Hood," Gisbourne sneered. "Your father must be rolling over in his grave!"

"Better an outlaw's wife than a villain's," Marian remarked, stung at the mention of her father. "You once told me the Gisbourne heritage was a proud one. Well, my husband took a name thrust upon him, a derogatory name marking him as an outlaw with nothing, and made it the most glorious name in England! But you were given a name that was once noble and proud, and made 'Gisbourne' feared and hated above all others."

Marian finished wrapping his wound, and stood and faced her husband. "What should we do with him now?" she asked.

"Let him be," Robin remarked. "You stopped the bleeding."

"We can't leave him here. He needs care."

"So he can recover, and continue his murderous tyranny over our people?"

A thrill went over Marian at hearing Robin include her when referring to the people of Locksley. It would be better for everyone, she was thinking, if Gisbourne died. But that wasn't their decision to make. "If we leave him here, he will surely die. I don't want that on either one of our consciences, do you?"

Robin shook his head.

"I have an idea," Marian told him quietly. "Let's leave him now, and find Tuck. He can 'discover' him here, and bring help."

...

**(Note: If you're like me, you love the hedgehog line, spoken so cockily in Lardner's Ring. I came across it in a Robin Hood story written by Henry Gilbert, published somewhere around 1912, so the series borrowed it from an earlier source.) **


	42. Chapter 42

Sheriff Vaisey snored lightly, smiling in his sleep. He was enjoying an afternoon nap in his soft bed, sleeping off the effects of the fine Burgundy wine he'd sipped at his midday meal of grapes and venison. The twittering of caged songbirds accompanied his soft, rhythmic breathing, and in his chamber, all was right with the world.

Vaisey was dreaming. His mind told him he was dreaming, but oh, such delightfully delectable dreams! Oh, this was good! This was good!

In his dreams, Robin Hood himself was here in the sheriff's room. Even more exciting, Robin was in the sheriff's bed, naked as the day he was born, each of his limbs bound to a separate bedpost. His mouth was gagged, but every so often, Vaisey showed mercy and removed the gag, so that he and Hood could engage in one of their little chats.

Vaisey's prized merlin hawk gripped his gloved wrist, its talons sharper than daggers. It hadn't been fed for days, but the sheriff felt it was time to let it feed.

"So, Hood, pretty boy," Vaisey began, leering at the outlaw, "this is my dream, and you can't escape me. Do you know what I plan to do with you now?"

"Whatever your plan, it can't be more exciting than what you just did," Vaisey's Dream Robin smirked.

Vaisey grunted in his sleep. Somehow, his dreams never quite captured Robin's clever banter. Disappointed, he rolled over in his sleep, then smiled wickedly as he steered his dream on the seas of his depraved imagination.

"Oh, pretty boy, you'll find this exciting, believe me! You've always fancied yourself something of a hero, hmm, Robin? The People's Savior? Their Only Hope?"

"They need a savior, with evil men such as you and Prince John leading the shire."

"Well blah dee blah dee blah! Do I care what you think, hmm? A clue...no. What I care about is instituting justice!"

"Then we agree, for once. I care for Justice, too."

"Yes. But it seems we differ about what's Just, don't we, hmm, Little Robin Red Breast? You," and the sheriff jabbed a finger in Robin's face, "have no respect for the Law, for Authority, and we can't have that now, can we? Hmm? From the very first day you showed your pretty little face and body back in my shire, you've done nothing but wreck havoc on my plans! And I don't like it when people wreck havoc, Hood. Do I make myself clear, hmm?"

"Someone had to stop you, Vaisey. For too long, good, honest Englishmen let you bully your way over them, stealing what was theirs. You're the monster who wrecked havoc on the shire. Not me. I only tried to protect the people."

"The people! Oh! How moving! How touching! I think I feel tears coming on! A clue...NO! I'm not crying, Hood! I'm rejoicing! For I've got you now, and this time, this time, there will be no escape!"

"There's always an escape, Sheriff! I'll get away, like I always do, leaving you stuck with Gisbourne."

"Gisbourne! That jester! Yes...where is he, anyway? He's about to miss the fun! It's showtime, Hood! I call this little performance, Prometheus Bound. Guess who you'll play?"

"Don't tell me. Prometheus, the hero who first gave man fire?"

"Very good! You know your Greek! But how well do you know it, hmm? Do you, for instance, know what the gods did to punish the poor misguided hero, hmm, for making lowly man rise to their heights? After all, we mustn't give power to the lowly, Hood, and that's always been your dream, hasn't it? To lend a helping hand, so that the peasants can rise and be no different than the lords?"

Vaisey clicked his tongue mockingly. "Tsk, tsk, Robin! I would have thought your very expensive and thorough education and your clever little mind would have warned you of the dangers of that!"

In his dream, Vaisey began readjusting Robin's gag, first leaning down to savor a long ravishing kiss. Then, rethinking his plan, he tossed the gag aside.

"No gag, I think!" he cried, delightedly. "I wouldn't want to miss your screams, when my hawk feasts on your liver!"

Vaisey's Dream Robin snickered unpleasantly. "Just like Prometheus, will I survive, and be visited by you and your hawk again tomorrow?"

"Only if I'm lucky enough to enjoy the same dream again. I must remember exactly what I ate and drank at dinner! This is too good a dream not to repeat itself, hmm?"

Vaisey finished slicing a wound under Robin's ribs, where he believed his liver must lie. Then, with a manical grin, he relished the sounds of Robin's screams, watching gleefully as his prized hawk ate the outlaw's liver.

"Yes! Yes!" Vaisey cried, clapping his hands and leaping up and down in delight. "This is good! This is good!"

His dream abruptly ended when a disturbance just outside his door awoke him.

"No!" he groaned, wearing his disappointment like a cloak. A fluffy feather trimmed cloak, of course.

Throwing his feet over the side of his bed, he padded angrily on bare feet to his door, threw it open, and roared at his guards, "What in Hell's name is so vitally important, that you blithering oafs can't keep quiet long enough to let me catch a few moments of well earned rest? This had better be good! Tell me...tell me someone's captured Robin Hood, hmm? Tell me that, and I'll give you all raises!"

"No, my lord. It's not Hood. It's Gisbourne. There's a friar at the gate, demanding to see you! Claims Gisbourne was wounded by Hood, and needs help! Will you see him, my lord?"

Vaisey glowered, then lifted the guard's helmet off his head and struck him with it.

"Bring the holy man here," he fumed. "If Hood wounded Gisbourne, I might as well enjoy hearing the juicy details. Well, don't just stand there gaping! Bring him to me, you pair of oafs! Step lively!"


	43. Chapter 43

Sir Guy of Gisbourne sat up in his bed, pounding the goosedown mattress angrily with his fist, as he prepared himself to face his unwelcome visitor. Was it not bad enough to suffer the indignities Hood had thrust upon him, without having to listen to the sheriff belittle him as well?

Gisbourne's physician had confined him to his bed at Locksley, to recover from Hood's arrow wound to his thigh. Painful as that wound was, it was nothing compared to the wound his heart suffered, a wound he tried to squealch by overindulging on wine. Yet even drunk, his mind couldn't erase the cruelty of Marian's cold words to him!

Her fingers had been cold, too, he remembered...cold from her recent swim. Could she feel how their touch had the opposite effect on him, igniting fire in his blood, as she gently washed and wrapped his wound?

He hadn't been so physically close to her since he held her against him, just after his sword plunged through her body, in that hellish moment in Acre. She had rejected him that day, too, cruelly rejected him while claiming to love Hood! No! Gisbourne shut his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to block out the horrible memory of her words!

And afterwards, how he had mourned his act! How he had suffered for it, haunted by the accusing look in her beautiful eyes, as reality set in, and he realized what he had done to her!

He thought he'd destroyed her, and he'd suffered hellish agonies in his soul for it! But now, now she was back, having escaped Death, and she still rejected him! It would have better if she'd died!

Gisbourne took another long drag on his wineskin, trying to deaden his pain before Vaisey sashayed into his bedchamber to mock him. But he could not block out Her image, bending so beautifully over him!

Why would she save him, unless she cared? She did. He knew she must. There had always been something between them, something he'd never felt with any other human being.

He would never guess what a false whore she was from looking at her, especially at such close range! Her blue eyes were so clear, sparkling like crystal when sunlight struck it! Her hair, wet from her recent erotic bath with Hood, was darkened to the color of a raven's breast. Her creamy skin was flawless, but for a small mole under her lips, and another on her shoulder, moles that enticed and enflamed him, making him wonder where others might lie hidden beneath her garments. And her body...to look upon her body was to long to ravish it, even though he knew it was no longer pure...stained, he reminded himself, by Hood, his vile, despicable enemy!

Gisbourne flung back his head and roared with the furious cry of a trapped animal.

Sheriff Vaisey, entering the chamber at that precise moment, clicked his tongue and scolded, "Now, now, Gisbourne, is that any way to greet your master? What's the matter, hmm? Hood poke you too hard with his shaft?"

"My lord!" Gisbourne bellowed, understanding all too well the sheriff's sick fantasies.

Vaisey enjoyed a brief fit of mocking laughter, at Gisbourne's expense. "His arrow shaft, I mean," he explained. "My, my, Gisbourne, what were you thinking I meant, hmm?"

Vaisey wrinkled his nose in disgust at the stale odors in Gisbourne's bedchamber. Hood's bedchamber, really. But the place failed to arouse him now. When Robin Hood had first been outlawed, he had taken an unwilling Gisbourne in Hood's bed, but when he opened his eyes, it had still only been Gisbourne, after all. And it still would be, he recognized, and thus, the room and the bed had lost their fascination. But to business!

"Lucky escape for you, Gisbourne," Vaisey smirked. "The fat friar returns to the shire, after disappearing just before I planned to pull information from him concerning the sanctimonious old Fart, finds you wounded in the forest, and reports your whereabouts and condition to me! A coincidence? A clue...no."

"What do you mean?" Gisbourne sneered, the wine and his foul temper making him omit his customary, "my lord."

Vaisey made a mental note of the omission, choosing to punish his lieutenant for his odious manners at a later date. "I mean, Gisbourne, that the friar wasn't working on his own. And I'm not referring to that pack of hounds he keeps trailing around him for protection, either! What I mean, Gisbourne, is that Tuck is in league with the outlaws!"

Gisbourne only sneered in disgust. The jolly fat friar never held any interest for him. The man was weak, with his calf like eyes and his overfull round belly, a simple fool who cared more for his dinner than for his duties.

"You dismiss my accusation, Gisbourne, hmm?" the sheriff asked. "Afraid of hellfire, if I make you take on a man of the cloth? Well, grow up, Gisbourne! There's nothing to religion, but a way to wield power over the weak minded! And Power is too precious to go to the Church, when I want it to belong to me, do you hear?"

"I'm not afraid of that fat lout," Gisbourne sneered, longing to take another drink again, to blot out the image of Marian's face, eyes downcast as she examined his wound, her black eyelashes so thick they seemed to be all entangled together.

Vaisey clapped his hands. "Good! See that you don't lose your resolve! Because, Gisbourne, I need you to recover, so that you and I can set a little trap."

Gisbourne leaned forward. This, he reminded himself, was why he endured all the indignities of serving Sheriff Vaisey. The man was brilliant in his deviousness. Hood, alone, seemed the only soul whose own cleverness could outwit him. But Hood's luck couldn't hold forever. One day, the tables would turn, and then, they would have him! And he, Guy of Gisbourne, would have Hood's leavings, and make her pay for the suffering she had caused him.

"A trap, my lord?" Gisbourne repeated, the cold bluegrey of his eyes glinting like the blade of his sword. A sword, he didn't need to remind himself, that was most recently handled by Her lovely hands.


	44. Chapter 44

Sheriff Vaisey scooted a chair to Gisbourne's bedside, plopped himself heavily onto it, then put his feet, muddy boots and all, on Gisbourne's bed.

Gisbourne tried to hide a sneer.

"What trap?" Gisbourne asked, impatient at the hope of capturing Hood. And Marian.

Vaisey only chuckled, evilly.

"What trap?" Gisbourne asked again, louder.

"You, Gisbourne, are about to suffer a twinge of remorse, a twinge of guilt, as it were. And what does an empty headed buffoon do, when his conscience tweeks him in the ass, hmm? He goes to Confession! You, Gisbourne, as soon as you can stand on both legs, will find the overfed, underdressed tub called Friar Tuck, and tell him what we want him to hear!"

Vaisey sat back, looking proud, his eyes glinting with excitement. They dulled slightly, at Gisbourne's next question.

"And what is that, my lord?"

Vaisey sighed. If only Gisbourne had a fraction of Hood's cleverness, how much more exciting this private bedside chat might be! But, no, the man's head was thick as a fishwife's waist.

Bored now, Vaisey pressed on. "You will tell him your conscience smites you, over the brat. You wish to make amends, to help the lad. Set him up, provide for him, give him a loving home and an education. Give him a future."

Gisbourne winced. "My lord, I don't see how that will bring us to Hood!" _Or to Marian, _he was thinking. "He'd never turn the brat over to me! He doesn't trust me."

Vaisey turned on him sharply, fury in his eyes. "Do you think I don't already know that? A clue...no!"

"Then what, my lord," Gisbourne continued, breathing deeply to calm his own rising temper, "is your point?"

Vaisey lifted one boot clad foot and slammed its heel into the wound on Gisbourne's thigh, then laughed gleefully at his lieutenant's pain.

When Gisbourne's roars of agony had quieted, the sheriff explained. "Feeling better, Gisbourne, hmm? That's good. Now that you've cleared the cobwebs from your head, allow me to explain. First, it tells us, without a shadow of a doubt, just whose side Tuck is on."

"With respect, torture could accomplish the same mission, my lord."

"Yes. And attractive as that propsition is, it would lose us our secret weapon."

Gisbourne remained silent, fearing to ask what that weapon might be. But Vaisey enlightened him.

"Tuck must believe we don't know his dealings with Hood! He must remain in the dark, so to speak. We will turn the tables on Hood and his outlaw gang, with Tuck as our decoy! Oh! This is good! This is good! Think of it, Gisbourne! All that time we thought we had a spy in Hood's camp, and instead, they had one in ours! Well, this time, we won't be the deceived, but the deceivers! Hood will think Tuck is his spy, when in fact, unknowingly, he'll be ours!"

...

The outlaws didn't miss Kate that evening, as they feasted with their guest, Friar Tuck. Robin had told everyone, with the exception of Bat, about Gisbourne's failed attempt to find their camp, and explained his plan of leading future seekers farther and farther northward, by setting up false camps to distract and deceive.

When it grew dark, Robin led his men by torchlight to the place beside the stream where he and Marian had earlier enjoyed a swim. The water gathered at this spot into a large pool, before dividing into two separate streams. Each man, including Bat, was told to bring along his bow.

Marian held Bat's hand as they followed Robin to the stream, wondering what her husband could be planning. She didn't need to wait long, for once they'd arrived, Robin solemnly removed his quiver and placed it on the ground.

Handing the torch to Much, he explained, "Seeing as we have company, I thought a bit of archery practice might interest our guest."

Allan groaned. "Archery? Now? In the bleedin' dark? Are you bein' funny, or what?"

"I'm not bein' funny," Robin answered back, laughing. "Watch this, and tell me how funny you find it."

So saying, he drew forth an arrow, held its point to the torch flame for a moment, then nocked it to his bow. The point, previously dipped in deer fat, ignited into a bright flame. With a beautiful motion, Robin loosed it over the water. Djaq and Marian gasped.

"It's beautiful," Djaq exclaimed.

Marian wanted to shoot next. Without speaking, she drew forth an arrow, touched its point to the torch, and sent it on a fiery path. Apparently, all the arrows had been treated, and shortly, arrow upon flaming arrow soared over the water and then dropped and disappeared into the pool.

No one spoke. Even Much was silent, and Allan stopped joking long enough to enjoy the solemn beauty of the moment.

Robin crouched down and helped Bat shoot his own small arrows with his own small bow, being careful not to burn the boy, but letting him think he did most of the shooting himself. Bat's face shone with wonder and delight.

When the last arrow had been shot, the outlaws returned to camp, and Tuck settled down for the night in one of the empty bunks. Robin let Bat stay up, the boy sitting on Marian's lap beside the campfire, listening to another one of Robin's impromtu bedtime stories. It wasn't long until the child couldn't keep his eyes open. His head bobbed, then rested against Marian's shoulder.

"I thought that was rather a good one," Robin said quietly, not wanting to wake the boy. "I'm surprised he fell asleep."

"It was very entertaining," Marian smiled back, swaying gently as she rocked the child into deeper slumber.

The couple tucked the boy into his bunk as if he were their own child. And then, Robin took Marian's hand and led her to their bower.

Once there, Robin handed Marian a bouquet of...something.

"What's this?" she asked, surprised.

"They used to be violets," Robin explained. "It seems they close up at night. Like shutters on a house in town."

Marian sniffed the former bouquet and smiled. "It was very sweet of you. I'll treasure them."

To her further surprise, Robin took her tenderly in his arms and began swaying gently back and forth very slowly, while singing softly in her ear.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Robin of Locksley, you're not singing, are you?"

"I am. Seems kind of silly to dance with my wife, without any music."

"Dance?"

Robin actually had a pleasant voice, pleasant enough for him to have posed successfully as a minstrel on one outlaw excursion. Marian closed her eyes and leaned against him, letting herself be lulled by the swaying of his body and the sound of his voice.

There was magic again in Sherwood that night, and when they shortly made love, it seemed to last deliciously forever.


	45. Chapter 45

Marian awoke late the following morning. The sun was already high, and she could hear the other outlaws laughing and talking as they finished their breakfasts.

It was a wonder to her that Robin could be up, after they had stayed up half the night, drunk with love on each other. She stretched and smiled, remembering, wishing he were still beside her.

Then, not wanting to miss whatever he might be planning, she quickly rose and readied herself to join the others.

As soon as she appeared, an indignant Much shoved a bowl of lukewarm pottage into her hands.

"If it tastes a little burnt, don't come complaining to me!" he told her. "I did my best to keep yours warm, but I can't be expected to watch over it all morning long! I don't care who you are!"

"I'm sure it will be fine, Much," Marian said politely, soothing Much's anxieties. "Thank you for keeping it warm for me."

"Yes. Well. I just didn't expect you to lay around in bed all day, like a...like a...like a... Who are those people who laze around all day long, anyway?"

Robin's eyes crinkled their adoring smile at her across the camp, and Bat ran and hugged her around her waist, laying his cheek against her belly. Tuck's dogs danced around her ankles, greeting her. The sun was shining, and Much's pottage never tasted so good!

"Now," Robin was saying, "Friar Tuck has agreed to say Mass and hear confession from anyone who wants to make it, before he leaves us today. Djaq, are you comfortable with that? You don't have to come, you know."

Djaq appreciated Robin's tolerance of her faith. "I would like to listen," she said, intellectually curious, "as long as the friar has no objections."

"Can anybody else get excused?" Allan asked.

"No one's forcing anyone to come," Robin insisted, believing every man needed to follow his own heart and his own conscience. "Still, I'd recommend it, Allan. There's a reason all of us are still above ground, you know, and I think it's our duty to thank The One who watches over us and protects us from harm."

"Yeah. Well, I thank your shooting arm every night before I go to sleep," Allan quipped, somewhat defensively. "Besides, my sword needs sharpening. Think I'll just stay here and work on that."

Robin nodded his head gravely, sorry that something in Allan's past had turned him against religion. For all his lighthearted jests, his friend was complicated, having survived emotional pain Robin couldn't even guess at. The last thing Robin wanted to do was to make Allan feel threatened.

"Good," he said, "because I have use for your sword today. And for your strong sword arm. So, by all means, sharpen it. But if you change your mind, we're right through those trees."

"Use? For his sword?" Much spoke up. "What use? Master, what are you planning?"

"Yes, Robin," Marian joined in, hating to be left out. "What are your plans?"

Robin snickered fondly down at her. "You'll see soon enough. It's a shame, my love, you're not better with a needle. You could have made yourself a shepherdess costume, and you'd make a very fetching shepherdess, I think!"

"Shepherdess! What are you talking about?" Marian was growing angry at his self satisfied, patronizing attitude, as well as being left in the dark, ignorant of his schemes.

"Later," Robin told her with a wink, amused by the sparks in her eyes.

Robin was glad to hear Mass, knowing he'd need a lot of prayer just to fend off Marian's temper when she learned he meant to exclude her from his latest plan.

...

Guy of Gisbourne sat up in his bed, seething with rage at his wound, and the fiend who had given it to him.

The sheriff hadn't made things any better, with his unwelcome visit yesterday. He'd hinted of plans to capture Hood, but they made no sense to Gisbourne's mind.

Gisbourne had a plan of his own, once he was well enough to execute it. Force was what he understood, force and numbers. Now, all he needed was a way to lure Hood to a place when he might be surrounded, cut down, and then...then, Gisbourne would geld him!

Castration, mutilation...these would be the balm to Gisbourne's tortured soul! These were what Hood deserved, after robbing him of Marian!

What had Vaisey said, just before he left? Gisbourne shut his eyes, trying to block out the sheriff's final jab at his wounds.

"Stop wasting your time dreaming of the Leper, Gisbourne," Vaisey had counselled, mockingly. "After all, haven't you realized by now, Hood is irresistible? Why, even Princess Joan begged him to take her, just before she was shipped off to Sicily to marry weak, impotent King William! Oh! You didn't know? It's true. Prince John told me, having hidden and witnessed the entire scene himself! And do you think our noble little Robin Red Breast gave Her Royal Highness what she begged of him, hmm? A clue...no! He turned her down, quite beautifully, so the prince tells me! Of course, he didn't turn down _your_ sister, now, did he, hmm, when she proposed a similar venture? No, Gisbourne, Hood screwed your sister! I think he must have enjoyed getting back at you, just as much as he enjoyed her! And now, of course, he's enjoying Marian. Oh, yes, Gisbourne! If you must think of it, let it drive you to revenge!"

And Gisbourne did think of it, try as he might to block it out of his mind.

Roaring out an oath, Gisbourne knocked his breakfast tray onto the floor.

The loud clatter of spilled dishes brought one of the braver of Gisbourne's men to his bedside.

"My lord?" the man asked, studying the thick vein pulsing with anguished rage on his master's forehead.

"Get out!" Gisbourne roared. "You're supposed to be in Nottingham, getting ready to escort the tax money out of the shire! Hood must not rob you of it, do you understand? Because if he does, you'll wish he wasn't so weak and woolly, afraid to kill! His arrows through you would be nothing to the way I'll watch you die, if you let him take the money!"

"He won't have it, my lord," the guard assured him. "We won't go anywhere near Sherwood Forest today."

"Go, then, and don't show your face here again until that money is safely out of the shire."

"Yes, my lord. Our road is longer, but quite safe. The only thing we need fear today is sheep dung, as we tramp through pasture."

Gisbourne sneered and dismisssed his man, wanting to be alone again.

But he did not get his wish. He was told he had yet another unwelcome visitor.

"My lord, before I go, I must tell you. Your sister, the Lady Isabella, is here to see you."

...

**(Note: I used the brief reference to Prince John's spying upon the scene between Robin and Princess Joan from a novel by Margaret Campbell Barnes called The Passionate Brood, about Richard, John, Joan, and their other siblings. Thought it fit nicely with another story I'm currently writing, called A Birthday for Robin, so its readers can see how Princess Joan's feelings toward Robin develop once he "grows up.")**


	46. Chapter 46

After bidding Tuck and his dogs goodbye, Robin gathered his men around him to explain his plan for the day. Glad to see Marian busily occupied showing Bat how to roll riverbank clay, he let his attention briefly rest on her and the child before beginning.

"Now," he heard her sweetly tell the wide eyed boy, "what do you think? This can either be a snake, or a sausage. Would you like to make one?"

Robin nudged Much, drawing his attention to the pair. "Remember doing that, and arguing, when we were boys?" he asked, winking at his friend.

"They were sausages!" Much insisted with a grin, his eyes shining with memory.

"Well, my snake ate your sausage."

Allan couldn't let that one pass. "Not bein' funny but-"

"What's the plan, Robin?" Will asked, purposely talking over Allan's jest.

First casting another quick glance at Marian, mistakenly believing she wasn't listening, Robin divulged his plan.

"Alright lads," he began, pitching his voice low to prevent his wife from overhearing, "the tax money travels south today, and I intend to steal it. But, it won't be travelling through Sherwood."

"What direction, then?" Will asked, alert with interest.

Unsheathing his Irish knife from behind his hip, Robin used it to sketch a rough map in the dirt.

"The sheriff thinks he can outwit us by ordering his men to avoid the forest, and travel here, through the surrounding meadow to the east." Robin lifted his gaze, grinning proudly into the eyes of his men. "Bad idea," he chuckled smugly.

Much was the first to raise objections. "But, Master! We can't ambush it in broad daylight...in the open! They'll be watching for us with every step, forest or no forest. Besides, that money's bound to be heavily guarded!"

"That's why I need you in the trees, bow strung, arrows nocked, ready to fire," Robin told him seriously.

"Me, shoot? What about you?"

"I'll be in another tree. It might draw their attention, if too many of us pose as shepherds."

"Shepherds? What?" Allan asked, confused.

"Sheep, we do not like," Little John grumbled.

"I wouldn't go that far," Much objected. "Sheep are useful creatures, John, with their woolly coats and their fine tasting mutton meat!"

"Robin is not discussing the merits of sheep," Djaq huffed, trying to remain calm. "He is trying to explain his plan."

"Thank you," Robin said, then cast another loving glance toward Marian. She continued to appear absorbed in Bat, praising him for his clay snakes, all sparkling eyes and dimpled cheeks. Robin felt it safe to continue.

"Djaq," he ordered, "I need you to stay here, and teach Bat his letters. Let Marian help you, and then, she can give him an archery lesson."

"Yes," Djaq agreed, knowing her main task would be to keep Marian in camp.

"John, Will, Allan," Robin continued, "you are going to pose as shepherds, in the pasture."

"With staffs for crooks?" Will asked.

"What else? And keep your sword and hatchet under your cloaks, unless its absolutely necessary to use them," Robin reminded them.

"But we can use the staffs, right?" Allan wanted to know.

Robin didn't want to disappoint Allan or Little John. "I'm sure it'll be necessary to use those," he said, grinning.

"And you and Much will cover us, from the treetops?" Will asked.

Robin nodded confidently, and turned to Much.

"You're the best shot in camp, next to me and Marian," he praised his servant. "Just be sure not to shoot unless I shoot first."

"And what do I do?" his wife's lovely voice at his elbow asked.

Robin's confident manner faded, as he slowly turned and met Marian's earnest, steady gaze.

"You, my love, will stay here and teach Bat archery," he told her, not knowing she'd already heard him tell Djaq.

"I think not," Marian boldly stated. "You have three shepherds. Why not three archers? I just heard you say I was the best shot in camp."

"After me," Robin bragged.

"Of course! Everyone knows Robin Hood's amazing skill with a bow surpasses anything mere mortals can do!"

Allan stepped forward and stopped the argument. "Not bein' funny, but I know I'd sure feel a lot safer, knowin' I was covered by three archers instead of two, especially when one of them's Much!"

"Oh, very funny!" Much sputtered, knowing he had just been insulted.

"I don't need three archers," Robin objected, seeing no need to risk Marian's safety on what he expected to be an easy ambush. "Much and I will cover you," he told Allan.

"I'm coming," Marian insisted.

"Please, Marian, just stay here," Robin pleaded, growing angry.

Marian pulled the outlaw tag from under her shirt and held it under Robin's nose. "Robin of Locksley, am I a member of your gang, or not?"

Robin remained silent, weighing the risk to her life. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh. "Very well, but you're staying with me," he ordered.

Happy now, Marian threw her arms around his neck and lightly kissed him. "In a tree?" she asked. "The last time we hid together in the treetops, you gave me an engagement ring. I hope you have more jewelry hidden on you," she teased.

Robin's unhappy mood vanished in the magic of her smile. "I guess you'll just have to frisk me and see," he teased her back.

"Please!" Much complained. "You'll be sorry you asked her to come guard you, Allan, with the two of them hiding in the same tree! If any arrows need to be fired, they'll be fired from my bow, I think you'll find! Those two will be too busy gathering honey to notice what's going on beneath them!"

Robin laughed, embarrassed. "We will not," he scoffed, blushing slightly, knowing he'd find it challenging to focus if the tax money took long arriving, with nothing to do but wait, with Marian waiting beside him in a leafy tree.

"Robin can focus," Will insisted.

Robin nodded his head. "I won't let you down. You have my word."

"And mine," Marian added, proudly taking hold of her husband's hand.


	47. Chapter 47

"Come to gloat?" Guy of Gisbourne sneered, watching his sister strut to his bedside.

"No, Guy. I heard Robin Hood wounded you. Can't a sister show tender concern for her big brother's health and well being?"

"Not when that sister is you," Gisbourne snarled back.

Isabella pursed her lips. It was true she'd wasted no remorse when she'd learned her brother was bedridden, wounded in the thigh by one of Robin's well placed arrows. To be truthful, she'd actually rejoiced at the news, hoped the wound was painful, then cursed Robin for his aversion to kill.

"You do happen to be correct, this time," Isabella grudgingly admitted. "I came with a clearer purpose."

"State it and get out," Gisbourne ordered.

"Now, Guy! Is that any way to treat your sister? Especially a clever sister, with a plan to get you everything you ever dreamed of."

Images of power, wealth, and position flashed through Gisbourne's mind. In every picture, a dark headed blue eyed beauty stood at his side, or lay crushed beneath his weight, her body thrusting wildly against his. Gisbourne slowly wetted his lips.

"What can you do?" he sneered.

"Precious little, alone. As little as you, dear brother. But together! Together, as a team, we could be unstoppable!"

Gisbourne knew better than to trust her. "What do you want?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Isabella paused for only a moment. She'd rehearsed this speech many times, but had hesitated to make it before, afraid Guy would charge and hurt her. But now that he was bedridden, with nothing to do but lie still and brood over his enemy, she seized her opportunity.

"Sheriff Vaisey has proven himself incapable of capturing Robin Hood. He no longer deserves to hold office. Have you ever pictured yourself, Guy, in his position?"

Of course he had. Lord of Locksley, Earl of Huntington, Sheriff of Nottingham, with Marian as his wife, gazing adoringly up at him, submissive at last when he held his proper place as her husband and lord.

"And just how do you propose I get there?" he asked, clenching his teeth to prevent him from releasing his rage brought on by his sister's presence.

"Kill the sheriff," she said, simply, in hushed tones.

Gisbourne caught his breath. It wasn't the surprise of her suggestion that made his heart freeze, it was a flashback from another time he'd heard a soft, female voice utter those same words to him.

"Kill the sheriff." She had tempted him with the promise of her hand in marriage, and he had weighed his decision carefully. But the instant the words had left her rosebud lips, he knew he wouldn't. If he gave in, she would hold power over him, and that was unthinkable. No, he must seize power and control, not give it to her without a whimper! Enough of being weak, and suffering for the love of a woman!

He'd given her everything! Lavished expensive gifts on her! Bared his very soul to the creature, and still she would not bend to his will! He should have taken her then, on the floor, shackles or no!

And now that he knew the truth behind her demand, his fury at her was unleased.

She had been carrying Hood's bastard when she offered him her hand! He should have guessed! Her seasickness on the boat east, her finicky appetite, the gentle swell just beginning to round under her white, virginal eastern gown...a gown he'd bought her himself, out of love!

Believing Hood dead, she had meant to save herself, and Hood's bastard, by marrying him, and passing her brat off as his offspring! And if he'd been fool enough to do her bidding, they'd be living here in Locksley now, as man and wife, with Hood's brat as his heir! Oh, how she would secretly laugh at him behind his back at that! How fitting she would find it, that the real heir to Locksley would one day have it all back again!

But he'd shown her! There was no more brat, he'd seen to that! And rumor was she'd never bear another.

No, he wasn't duped, raising Hood's bastard as his own proud heir. Ironic that Hood should now be raising Gisbourne's bastard, in his forest hideout.

"Guy?"

Isabella's sharp voice broke through his fuming thoughts.

"Have you decided? Will you kill the sheriff? We can seize power, and rule in his stead!"

Gisbourne narrowed his eyes and sneered his reply. "If you want him dead, do it yourself. Your poisons are less traceable than my sword."

"But, I need you, Guy! You know as well as I, a helpless woman can't seize power!"

"You're trying to trap me, aren't you, Isabella? To have me caught and hung, so you can be rid of me and seize power yourself! If it were as easy as you suggest, don't you think I would have killed him long before now?"

Despite his wound, Gisbourne pulled himself from his bed and stood threateningly over her.

Isabella shivered, already feeling the power of his slap across her cheek. "No, Guy," she answered, panting in fear. "I'm your sister! Until you take a wife, we are the last of the Gisbournes! We must band together, and take what ought to be ours! I'm tired of living on scraps! Think on my words, Guy, for our mother's sake."

"Our mother deserted us, and fled to France with a lowly troubadour! Don't mention that harlot's name to me!"

The slap came at last, sending Isabella reeling to the floor. His rough movement sent a stab of pain through Gisbourne's thigh as well, and he roared aloud in anguished fury.

Thornton burst through the door of the bedchamber, and surveyed the two siblings, each suffering from their battle.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord," he said, helping to ease Gisbourne back onto the bed. "But I heard cries, and thought you might require my assistance."

"Get her out!" Gisbourne bellowed.

"At once, my lord," Thornton agreed, helping the stricken woman to her feet.

"Think over what I said, Guy," Isabella called back over her shoulder, on her way out the door. "Think of having everything your heart desires! Everything you deserve!"

Gisbourne sneered, then relaxed after she was truly gone. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and pictured all he wanted.

Power should be his, but he refused to do his sister's bidding. The sheriff was still his pathway to power, through Prince John. As long as the Lionheart never returned!

Power was a tonic, but first, he wanted revenge.

He would never take Marian as his wife now. Hood had sullied her, and now, she was rumored to be barren as well. He would have to take a wife, to beget heirs, but he had no thirst for any other woman. He knew he wouldn't, until he had first quenched his burning desire for her.

He'd have her, he swore, and Hood's head, or die for trying.


	48. Chapter 48

"I hate waiting! Especially after climbing! I hate climbing, too, almost as much as I hate waiting! In fact, I hate them both!"

From his lonely post high atop a blooming chestnut tree overlooking a sheep meadow, Much grumbled unendingly to himself.

Allan, disguised as a shepherd below, heard Much's ceaseless complaints. "Oi!" he hollered back. "We've suffered through longer waits!"

"Like the time someone betrayed us, and we waited for hours on end for that revolting Henry of Lewis, who never showed because someone tipped Gisbourne off and he changed his route?" Much called down, in an unpleasant mood. "Well, this feels just about as long!"

From within a very large shepherd disguise, Little John inadvertantly stepped in sheep dung so fresh, it still steamed. "Sheep, we do not like!" he grumbled, making sheep scatter, then plopped down on the ground to scrape the sole of his boot with his staff.

"Will you all just shut up?" Will Scarlet demanded, scanning the horizon for any sign of the sheriff's men escorting the tax money. "We need to stay focused, like Robin!"

Allan let out a snort of laughter. "Focused?" he joked. "Like Robin?" He used his staff to point to the branches of a tree. "Not bein' funny, but have you seen the way the leaves are shakin'? It's like a bloomin' earthquake up there!"

Will looked up at tree where Robin and Marian were hiding. It was true. The branches were quivering more than the mild breeze could possibly stir them.

"You see?" Allan grinned. "Robin's focusing alright, but on a pair of-"

Will angrily threw back his head, then turned and glared at his friend.

"What?" Allan asked, acting innocent. "I was gonna say, 'blue eyes!' Really, I was!"

Just then, a commotion overhead made them all look up, as Robin himself crashed through the branches of his hiding place, falling to the ground.

"Master!" Much cried, alarmed, almost throwing himself from his leafy hiding place.

Robin leaped to his feet, brushed off his knees and his seat, threw his men a grin, then disappeared again as he wordlessly pulled his lithe, strong body back up into the branches of the tree.

Everyone was speechless for a moment, and then, Allan couldn't resist saying, "Anybody up for a bet? Wager you ten to one, she pushed him!"

...

Back once again in his treetop sniper's post, Robin smiled with amusement at Marian.

"Are you alright?" she asked him, her eyes wide.

"Ready for round two, if you are!"

"I'm not. I didn't mean to push you to the ground. I only wanted to-"

"It's alright! No harm done. Though my coccyx may never be the same again."

"Your what?"

Robin laughed joyfully. "My coccyx. My tailbone! It hurts."

"Sorry. I hope you're not expecting me to kiss it better."

"In that case, my lips hurt, too."

"I thought you claimed you never lie to me."

"I don't! And they do!"

"Lie?"

"No, hurt. I'm pretty sure I bruised them on my way to the ground."

"Poor lips." Marian leaned in and gave him a slow, pleasurable kiss. "How are they now?" she asked, smiling lovingly into his eyes.

"I think they died, and took the rest of me with them to Heaven," he smiled passionately back, leaning in for another kiss.

Four of five kisses later, with her fingers twined through his hair, Marian said, "I'm surprised you agreed to let me come with you on this mission! Usually, I have to beg, and even then, you rarely agree. What convinced you to let me come today?"

Robin gazed adoringly into her eyes, wearing that smile he reserved for her alone. "When I asked you to marry me, I said we were stronger together. I meant it, Wren. It's time I began living it."

A surge of joy flowed through Marian. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips against his again and kissed him so enthusiastically he nearly lost his balance and sent them both crashing to the ground. They stopped kissing and grabbed hold of a sturdy treebranch, then laughed.

"I love you," he told her, looking at her deeply and adoringly.

"I love you, too."

Once, not so long ago, neither one had been able to admit those feelings toward the other, but once the priceless words had finally been spoken, it seemed they never tired of repeating them.

"And we can keep Bat, can't we?" Marian asked, out of the blue.

Robin weighed his words before answering. "Well," he said, "at least while the weather holds. It might be better for him to move to the orphanage, when winter comes."

"Why? I mean, I know it's harsh, living in the forest in winter. But Will and Djaq will have their...their baby by then! And if a baby can endure the winter months, why can't a small boy?"

"He could," Robin agreed, "but he shouldn't have to. For that matter, I don't like thinking of you, getting chillblains on those pretty pink toes of yours."

"Oh! So you're going to send me away, too?"

"No. I'm planning to wrap you in woolly sheepskin and light a flame in you all winter long."

Marian had no words to answer him, only a rush of conflicted emotions.

But it didn't matter, for their argument needed to be shelved for the time being.

Robin had spotted the sheriff's men, escorting the cart carrying the shire's tax revenues.

Eyes gleaming and nerves tingling with excitement, Robin grabbed his bow and nocked an arrow. Marian did the same with hers.

"Alright," Robin said, a slow grin spreading across his features, though his eyes remained steady and serious, "don't shoot unless I give the order. Not even at my coccyx! I don't care how angry my words just made you! Alright, Marian? Promise me."

"Woolly sheepskin," she scoffed. "You might at least have offered green velvet."

"I might, but like you said, green doesn't suit you."

Marian gasped. Green was her favorite color! In fact, she was wearing green now! She didn't remember saying that!

Her surprise gave way to annoyance at Robin's mirthful snickering. "You don't like me in green?" she asked.

"You'd look gorgeous in slops, and I'll reconsider keeping Bat, since he means so much to you. _If_ we have a mild winter," he emphasized.

"Let's hope we bring the king home before then," Marian added soberly.


	49. Chapter 49

Robin's men had to push themselves to keep up with him, as he raced back to camp, his face glowing with the success of their ambush in the sheep pasture.

The sheriff's men had not expected to meet outlaws along their out-of-the-way route, and their surprise at the very first grey goose feathered arrow, carefully aimed to just miss the lead guard, plunged them into a state of panic. And when they discovered the three seemingly meek and mild shepherds were actually strong, vicious outlaws, wielding quarterstaffs, they surrendered the money and fled, as fast as their horses could carry them, leaving the chests of money in outlaw hands.

Much, thrilled at the success of his beloved master's plan, teased Robin affectionately all the way back to camp, especially after being startled by a strange cry they soon discovered was nothing more than a boisterous crow, cawing for its supper.

"I heard that," Much taunted Robin.

"What? The crow? I think we all heard that, Much."

"No, not the crow. The note of hope in your voice when we first heard it squawk."

"Hope?" Robin repeated, grinning with good natured confusion.

"You heard me. 'Trouble?' you said, all alert and hopeful, expecting you'd get to enjoy two dangerous feats in one day, as if the ambush hadn't been enough for you! And then, when we saw it was only a bird, admit it, you were disappointed! The rest of us were relieved, weren't we? The rest of us are sensible!"

"I don't want trouble, Much. I only want to put it out, when I find it."

"Oh! So, you admit, you go looking for it!"

"I don't. Trouble comes looking for me."

"So you say. I know better! Take your choice in wives, for instance!"

Robin stopped in his tracks, wearing a look that could only mean Much had better watch his tongue, allowing Marian time to catch up.

"What about his wife?" she asked, looking accusingly at Much from under raised eyebows.

"Um, er, nothing," Much stammered, realizing he had said too much. "Did I ever mention, Marian, how pleased I am you're finally one of the lads?"

Robin's hard gaze softened, knowing Much had meant no harm, but Marian continued wilting the servant with her intense stare.

Much gulped. "I'll shut up," he offered.

"Good idea," Robin said.

Allan let out a whoop of delight. "Not bein' funny, but I think you found a way to give our ears some peace!" he joked. "That gives us two things to celebrate when we get back to camp!"

...

At the outlaws' approach, Djaq and Bat looked up from their lesson and smiled.

Djaq's eyes went straight to Will, silently signalling her love for him. A part of her missed helping her friends on their dangerous missions, but, while pregnant, she submitted to staying in camp without the slightest hint of an argument. Robin couldn't help but wonder whether Marian would be so submissive, were she ever to conceive. He hadn't yet given up hoping for a child.

"Success!" he announced, with a gallant gesture at the money chests. "And not a scratch on any of us!"

"We have enjoyed success as well," Djaq told the gang. "Bat, show them what you have learned."

Bat began scratching in the dirt with a stick, then looked up at Robin and Marian with a mixture of pride and shyness.

"B-a-t!" Marian exclaimed. Overjoyed, she knelt down and held out her arms. Bat rushed into them. "Look, Robin!" she exclaimed, tears of joy in her eyes. "He can write his name!"

"That's good," Robin approved, smiling thanks at Djaq. Gently tousling the boy's hair, he said, "You did well! Would you like a treat? Anything you want, as a reward for your hard work!"

Bat pulled away from Marian's embrace, ran and fetched his small bow and quiver of matching arrows, then returned to tug on Robin's sleeve.

"A man after my own heart!" Robin grinned. "Alright! After such a successful day today, I think this calls for a round of shooting."

Marian sighed, resigned, and grabbed a fistful of arrows to replace the ones she'd shot in the ambush, placing them in her quiver. "You don't mind if I tag along?" she asked, smiling.

Bat grabbed hold of her hand, and Robin, smiling, took the other. "Wouldn't be the same without you," he said, blue eyes twinkling.

...

On the way to a nearby meadow, the best place for archery practice, a terrible accident befell Bat. One moment, he was tripping along, holding onto Marian's hand, and the next, he'd stepped in a tangle of leaves and bracken, placed over a deep hole floored with pointed ash spikes. Luckily, Marian felt his feet slip, and she grabbed hold tighter to his hand, and pulled him out of danger.

While Marian held Bat in her arms, comforting him, Robin inspected the hole.

"A mantrap," he soberly explained. "No more than a few days' old. Probably dug by Vaisey's men, to catch me."

"A man could die, falling on those spikes," Marian realized, distraught. "Not to mention a boy."

"I have a feeling this isn't the only one in the forest," Robin said, thoughtfully chewing his lower lip. "Come on! It seems we'll need to postpone archery for awhile, while we go back and warn the others."

Bat was whimpering and couldn't find the courage to walk, frightened by his ordeal.

Marian held his small body to her breast, trying to soothe him. After he calmed a bit, Robin swung him up onto his shoulders, and carried him all the way back to camp.

Bat's near fatal fall and evident fear decided Robin. Though he'd given his word to Marian, agreeing they could "keep" Bat, he knew it was time to take the boy to a place of safety. He only hoped Marian would see reason and let him go without much of a fight.


	50. Chapter 50

Robin waited until nightfall to tell Marian his decision about taking Bat to the orphanage, so that they could be alone when she heard the news. He suspected she would resist his decision, and he didn't want the others in camp overhearing their argument.

As they prepared for bed in their secluded glade, Robin was rehearsing in his mind just what he would say to her. But he wasn't able to take the chance to speak, for without warning, Marian drew close, clasped her hands behind his neck, and found his lips, pressing them hungrily against her own smiling mouth.

Robin's head immediately began swimming in delicious, hot, dizzying circles as he kissed her eagerly in return. The couple dropped to their knees, and then to the ground, without breaking the kiss.

It was all Robin could do to stop the tender assault, welcome as it was. He had to speak with his wife first, knowing it was the only right and honorable thing to do.

Marian's soft, warm mouth was moving rapidly over his face and neck, and it took every bit of his strength to tell her, "We've got to let Bat go, Marian."

"Go?" she asked, the romantic spell instantly shattered. She pulled her body off his, and sat up. "Why?" she demanded. "Go where?"

Robin leaned up on an elbow, looking appealingly into her eyes. "To the orphanage, Marian, as soon as the pox there poses no danger. It's the best place for him. He'll be safe there, my love."

"He's safe here," she protested. "Robin, you promised me he could stay with us!"

"That was before he nearly fell into one of the sheriff's traps. Every day he stays in the forest, we put his life at risk! It's not right. It's selfish."

"I don't care."

"I think you do. In fact, I know it."

Marian felt as if a precious dream was being snatched away. In her heart, she knew Robin was right, but she fought back stubbornly, her disappointment and grief over her inability to give the man she loved a child overtaking her sense and reason.

"But Will and Djaq are going to have a baby! Are you going to send it away, too?"

Robin sat up and reached for her hands. At first contact, she withdrew hers, then relented, letting him lift one hand and press its top to his lips, then turn it over to kiss her palm.

"Will's already told me their plans," he admitted. "As much as they want to stay here with us, they're planning to go to Scarborough, before the baby comes."

Marian caught her breath. Will and Djaq...leaving? Suddenly, Bat's upcoming absence didn't hurt so much.

Djaq had literally saved her life, twice. And while Marian had slowly recovered from Gisbourne's wound in the Holy Land, Will was her only link to her beloved England. She'd grown to depend on both Will and Djaq's steady, quiet strength, so different from her own flashing temperment. She felt their loss now, as if they were already gone.

"When were you planning to tell me?" she asked, her voice sounding hollow.

Robin reached up to tenderly tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "I wanted to tell you, as soon as Will told me. But he asked me to wait, and let him make the announcement."

Marian cast down her eyes. She felt if she looked Robin in the eye, she might cry, and she didn't want to appear weak or foolish. But her husband sensed her mood, and took her tenderly in his arms. Despite her determination to appear strong, Marian's tears began to flow. Surprisingly, it felt right to cry, safe in the shelter of Robin's strong arms, releasing all her pent up sorrow and regret over loved ones they might never meet again.

Robin held her close, letting her cry. After a short time, he heard her unhappy voice say, "We can visit Bat, as often as we like."

"Every day," Robin affirmed. "The sisters will see that he learns his letters, and think of the fun he'll have, with children his own age. It's the best place for him. He'll be perfectly safe there, Marian."

She nodded her head, as Robin wiped a tear off her cheek.

Somberly, they knelt side by side and quietly prayed together, then lay silently down upon their forest bed. Robin took his wife in his arms, sorrowful over having hurt her.

"I only want to bring you happiness, Marian," he uttered sadly into her hair. "I never want to hurt you, you know."

After a brief pause, Marian surprised him by asking, "Why couldn't you say it, Robin, so long ago?"

"Say what?"

"You know. I couldn't say it, either. I was so afraid of losing you."

He tightened his embrace, burying his nose in her hair. "No chance of that," he said, his voice full of tenderness. "Like I said, it's like you were made for me."

"Do you think Bat will cry?" she asked, less sad and growing drowsy now.

"We'll make sure he knows it's not goodbye," Robin assured her. "Let's both tell him tomorrow. And if he's not happy in a month's time, who knows? Will and Djaq might take him with them, to Scarborough."

Satisfied at last, Marian closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

...

Robin slept fitfully, dreaming of Acre, seeing men blown to bits, their bodies splintered apart by vulcanic Cyprian rocks catipulted over the city's walls in the siege. But it was Marian who cried aloud in her sleep, tormented by her own nightmare.

In her dreams, she knelt beside Sir Guy of Gisbourne, cutting away the black leather of his trousers, to dress the wound on his thigh.

Guy's flesh was pallid, fishbelly white, and ice cold to the touch. Yet as her fingers probed his wound, cleansing it of impurites, his skin heated up, searing her fingertips with painful burning.

Gisbourne's fingers gripped her wrist, as they'd done so many times in reality, digging into her flesh, hurting her.

"You're mine," his low, breathy voice commanded. "You will wash away my sins."

"Robin!" Marian struggled to cry out in her sleep, but no sound came.

"Hood can't help you now. I will kill him, and take you back. Lock you in the castle tower again, where no daylight can touch you."

"Get off me," Marian bit the words at him. But he only gripped her tighter.

"Robin!"

This time, Marian managed to call out his name, awakening her husband from his own nightmare.

Both were awake now, trying to shake off the dreadful nighttime images by clinging to one another.

Robin was surprised to find Marian sleeping in his own white linen shirt, the one with the beaded band around the scooped neck, crossed with lacings.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, stroking her hair back from her face.

"It was only a dream," she said breathlessly, pushing the image of Gisbourne's piercing eyes from her thoughts.

"You're wearing my shirt," he said, almost smiling, once he knew she was alright.

"I woke up earlier and put it on. I like it. It smells like you."

Instantly, Robin lay over her with fierce tenderness, running his hands up and down her thighs with loving urgency, his mouth hungry over hers, telling her of his need better than any words could.

He took her breath away, and her own desire rose within her to meet his. She needed him now, longing to bind herself to him again and banish Guy of Gisbourne from her thoughts, once and for all. Love was, after all, more powerful than pity, or fear, or disgust, or whatever conflicted emotions Guy churned up within her.

She wished the moon were brighter, so she could better see the goodness in her lover's eyes, the love and kindness that dwelt there, but then, she forgot everything, Bat, Gisbourne, the forest, everything, in the heat and wonderful trembling rising deep within her, that only Robin could bring.


	51. Chapter 51

"Master?"

Much felt it his duty to watch over Robin, exhausting as that duty often proved. Thankfully, all it entailed this morning was a word of caution, for Much thought Robin was being too trusting again.

"Is that really wise?" he questioned. "I mean...Allan! He's stolen from us before!"

"I trust Allan, Much," Robin answered, in a tone meant to silence any further argument. "He'll divide the money fairly."

Allan appreciated Robin's gesture, putting him in charge of dividing the money they'd stolen the previous day. The lion's share, of course, was intended toward King Richard's ransom, but the rest needed to go to the poor of Nottingham, Watlow, Clun, Nettlestone, and of course, Locksley.

Allan enjoyed the task, finding it "a piece of cake" to count and "divvy up" the money according to need. In practically no time at all, he announced he had finished.

"Good work, Allan," Robin approved, amazed. "It seems you've got a head for figures."

"Yeah. Well, I coulda done it faster without the bug eyed Idiot lookin' over my shoulder."

"Bug eyed?" Much sputtered, outraged. "Look who's talking!"

An amused smile crept across Allan's face. So, Much accepted his real insult, but took issue with being called "bug eyed"? What an idiot!

Dismissing him, Allan turned back to Robin and joked, "Countin' money's no problem. I like handlin' it, almost as much as I like a good-"

Little John, treating Bat to a ride on his broad back, stopped Allan's words with a low growl.

"Oi!" Allan cried. "I was gonna say a good night's sleep!"

"Yes," Marian warned him, approaching with a friendly smile on her lips. "While we've still got a child in camp, you watch your tongue."

Allan noticed the way her own words affected her. She quickly looked away, blinking her lashes while biting her lower lip to steady it. In a moment, she turned back, her lovely face composed again.

"Are you alright?" Allan heard Robin ask her, gently.

She nodded her head, then walked briskly away.

Robin let out a sigh.

"What's goin' on?" Allan asked.

"Marian and I think it's best we take Bat to the orphanage, for his own good," Robin told him, his eyes sorrowfully following his wife's retreating figure.

"Yeah. It is best," Allan confirmed. "It's not like you're sending him to France! He'll be just outside Locksley. Better 'n where he could end up, stayin' here with us. Not bein' funny, but he's almost met his maker twice, since he got here!"

"You're right," Robin said, looking thanks at Allan for his good sense. Cheering up, he smiled, and announced to the gang, "Come on, lads! Work to do! Time to spread a bit of happiness! Will and Djaq, take this money to Clun. John and Allan, Watlow. Much, you and Marian will accompany Bat and me to Locklsey. Meet back here when you've finished. We'll all go together to Nettlestone, and cover Nottingham tomorrow."

...

"I love this!" Much announced, as the group approached Locksley. "This is the best part of being an outlaw! Giving everything away! Watching the people's faces shine with gratitude, knowing Robin Hood's men will always take care of them!"

Robin smiled, in complete agreement, but stopped Much by telling him, "We've got a stop to make first, Much. Bat here, has agreed to go the orphanage, now that the pox has passed."

Much's jaw dropped open, as he stared in surprise from face to face. Grasping Robin's words at last, he tried his best to imitate his master.

"Wise decision, um, lad," he said, failing miserably at duplicating Robin's bold, carefree manner. Turning to Robin, he boasted, "I knew you and Marian were somewhat strained! I knew it! Now I understand!"

"We aren't strained," Marian said bitingly.

"Come on," Robin coaxed, trying to smooth things over. "We're almost there. There's a copper headed boy named Walt living here I'd like you to meet," he continued, smiling kindly at Bat. "He once saved Little John's life!"

Bat's eyes grew wide with wonder, causing Marian to smile for the first time since they'd set out today toward Locksley. Lifting her eyes, she exchanged a loving look with Robin, and felt a warm, glowing sense of peace.

By giving Bat to people who could safely care for him, they were loving him in the truest sense of the word. There was sadness, but joy in the act as well. But mostly, there was love.


	52. Chapter 52

Laundry day at Locksley Manor provided the perfect shield to hide the outlaws, as they passed out coins to the grateful poor.

"Bless you, Master Robin!" his people chorused, surrounding him with hugs and warm affection.

Much and Marian stood a little distance apart, watching. Much was on the alert, ready to protect Robin from danger, but Marian felt at ease, though somewhat empty from Bat's absence.

"He really cares about them, doesn't he?" Marian spoke quietly to Much.

"They gave him the love he needed, when he was young. He just wants to be loved," Much reminded her.

Marian cared for the people too, but not the same way her husband did. She couldn't open her heart so completely to them, the way she could to a child, or to an animal. There was still that line she'd been taught not to cross, separating the common man from the nobility. Yet Robin was helping her break that wall down, bit by bit. She certainly didn't need it with Will, or Allan, or Little John! They were all equals in Sherwood, without any loss of dignity or respect.

"And how is Kate?" Rebecca pushed her way through the crowd to Robin, anxious to hear news of her daughter.

"Kate's safe," Robin assured her, "safer than she's been in a long time, though she's no longer with my men."

"Where is she?" Rebecca demanded to know.

Before Robin had a chance to answer, a whiney voice akin to the sound of fingernails being dragged across slate, answered, "I'm here."

Robin spun around to see Kate, standing triumphantly in the open, staring defiantly at him, a clear target for any soldier's crossbow bolt.

Instantly, Robin ran and pulled Kate to safety, hiding her behind the hanging linens.

Wrapping her arms around Robin, Kate squeezed him tightly, laying her head on his chest. "I'm back, I'm back, I'm back!" she crooned.

The villagers dispursed at Kate's approach, none of them being eager to waste time in her company.

"What happened?" Marian asked angrily, helping Robin pry the girl off him. "Did the nuns kick you out of the abbey?"

"I ran away," Kate spat back. "Robin needs me, so I'm going back to camp with him."

"I need you to be safe, Kate," Robin told her, his eyes pleading with her to understand. "And, I need you to acknowledge Marian as my wife."

Kate's unblinking eyes only stared coldly back at him.

"Master, what do we do?" Much asked, annoyed beyond measure. "We can't take her back to camp!"

"We can't leave her," Robin answered, just as frustrated. "I don't see what other choice we have."

Marian was thinking how satisfying it would be to toss her into the pond, but before she could say anything, Friar Tuck came hurrying up to them, wheezing from his exertion.

"Little Flower," he said, fondly greeting Marian with the nickname he'd called her when she'd been a child. "Robin! What are you doing here? Don't you know, Gisbourne's here in Locksley?"

At the mention of Gisbourne, Robin's face changed. All the kindness he'd been wearing was swept away, replaced by hardness and a glint in his eye.

"You mean," he said, sardonically, "he's in my house?"

"Well, yes! He's wounded, remember. He summoned me here, to take his confession!"

Robin laughed under his breath. "Confession!" he scoffed. "Be prepared for a long visit! With his endless list of crimes, you'll be lucky if you get out before Christmas!"

"If then!" Much agreed. "I don't envy you, Father! If he's honest, which I doubt he'll be, considering his other sins, you're due to hear some gruesome stories!"

"Be careful," Marian warned Tuck. For all her bravado concerning Gisbourne, she knew better than anyone how dangerous the man could be.

"I have God's protection," Tuck assured her. "And my faithful companions'."

Thor, Brownie, and Caesar lopped at Tuck's heels, for they never strayed far from the monk's side.

"Oh, there's something else I must tell you, Robin!" Tuck said, before heading to the manor.

"Yes?"

"The Bishop of Hereford is due to arrive in Nottingham."

Not knowing the bishop, Robin didn't understand the significance of Tuck's news. "And?" he asked.

"You don't know him? Count yourself blessed. He's a vile soul, greedy and power hungry. He'd sell the holy crucifixes off the altar of his cathedral, if he thought he could get away with it! He's coming here to plot with Sheriff Vaisey, and it's rumored Prince John might even join them!"

Robin's face changed again, this time turning eager and mischievious. "You don't say?" he asked, pleased. "And just when does the sheriff expect his illustrious guests?"

"No one knows whether the Prince is coming for sure, but the bishop's due to arrive this afternoon!"

"This afternoon?" Robin repeated, the twinkle in his eye making Much nervous. "Well then," he declared, happy and excited, "we'd better head back to camp and gather the others!"

"Robin," Much protested, "we don't rob from the church! It isn't right! It'll make...You Know Who angry!"

"We aren't going to rob the Church, Much," Robin assured him. "Just the bishop! Come on! A bishop in league with the sheriff and Prince John is sure to be a viper in the garden! Let's just hope he's carrying some of his wealth with him, so we can help him lighten his load!"

With only a cursory glance for his safety, Robin broke free from the laundry hanging on the lines, and took off running toward the forest. Marian and Much followed at his heels. Unfortunately for the gang, so did Kate.


	53. Chapter 53

Thornton greeted Friar Tuck at the door to Locksley Manor, regretfully telling him, "I am sorry, but your dogs must remain outside."

"They've been in this house before," Tuck jovially reminded Locksley's reeve and steward, remembering a day long ago when Robin's infectious laughter rang out at seeing Tuck's three dogs race up and down his staircase.

Thornton glanced over his shoulder, leaned close to Tuck, then lowered his voice to comment, "The current master does not share the rightful one's good and generous nature. Be careful what you say, or even what you hear."

"But I am here to take confession! How can I guard what I hear?"

"That is what alarms me," Thornton warned, as the two men climbed the stairs toward Gisbourne's bedchamber. "Cut him off if he begins to reveal too much. He may come to regret telling you, and have you silenced."

"A man of the cloth?"

"Your vocation may save you, for he respects authority, at least those whom he believes serve his interests. Just be careful, Friar, if you value your life."

Tuck crossed himself, then waited while Thornton knocked respectfully on the door to his master's bedchamber.

"What?" bellowed Gisbourne's voice, through the door.

"My lord, Brother Tuck has arrived," Thornton answered back, respectfully.

"Then show him in," Gisbourne's voice snarled back.

"He's a joyless one, isn't he?" Tuck muttered quietly to Thornton. "I pray his confession might ease his soul, and lead him toward the path of righteousness."

"Amen to that," Thornton agreed, just before pushing open the bedchamber door.

Thornton bowed his head to the figure sitting up in the massive bed, then departed, leaving Tuck alone with Gisbourne. Treading carefully, Tuck made his way through the outer chamber, crossing further into the rooms, toward the bed.

It felt unreal, walking through these rooms that ought to be housing Robin! Tuck couldn't suppress a vivid memory of a mischievious but good hearted ten-year-old boy, forced to move from his child's room into this suite and take up a man's responsibilities, the day his lord father died, leaving him an orphan. How brave and stoic the lad had been that day, how determined to prove himself a worthy lord to his people! How small he'd appeared, standing beside the heavily carved furnishings of his ancestors.

Those same furnishings still decorated the rooms, Tuck noticed. To all intents and purposes, very little had changed in the grand bedchamber. Black and yellow crests hung where green and gold used to, but other than that, Tuck could discern no other changes. Yet how different everything seemed!

...

Gisbourne felt uncomfortable carrying out this scheme of the sheriff's. He felt his soul imperilled by making a false confession, no matter how stupid he found the fat monk.

He hated this jolly, overfed man of the cloth. Hated him for the childlike smile he always seemed to wear, for the aura of tranquilly that surrounded him! Just such a fool would follow Hood, misled by his so called acts of charity! The England Gisbourne and the sheriff were building held no place for such fools! And if "Father Dumpling," as Vaisey called him, was indeed Hood's spy, he deserved to die!

But first, they would use him to trap and capture Hood. Such a trusting fool should be easy to trick.

Gisbourne cleared his throat and began.

"I wish to make confession," he said, his voice low and breathy.

"Very good, my son," Tuck told him, sincerely praying that he could help lead Gisbourne away from sin.

Gisbourne found it next to impossible to continue. He was tormented by his sins, but never unburdened his soul by confession. Even this mock confession was too much, and he chafed under it, growing enraged by his own feelings of weakness and vulnerability.

"Go on," Tuck advised him gently. "You will be forgiven, no matter the crime. The Lord has already paid the penalty for all our sins."

Blocking out his feelings, Gisbourne spat out the words the sheriff had told him to say.

"I have a son," Gisbourne confessed. "I have not done right by him. I wish to make amends, and provide for him now."

Tuck was amazed. Was Gisbourne speaking of Bat? That certainly sounded like good news for the boy!

"That sounds like a worthy notion," Tuck prompted. "What plans have you made for the boy?"

"I can't locate him!" Gisbourne answered. "Hood's got him, in the forest! If I could find him, I would place him in Kirklees Abbey, and pay for his keep and education there."

"That would be most generous," Tuck approved. What a marvellous opportunity for the boy! Tuck couldn't wait to tell Robin. "Do you wish to unburden anything else from your soul, my son?"

Without meaning to, Gisbourne, usually so cautious, blurted out, "I have committed grave sins. I live in hell, with demons feeding on my brain."

Tuck silently prayed for Gisbourne's soul, grieved for the man's plight, willing him to continue speaking.

But Gisbourne caught his breath, angry that he had revealed himself, especially to one in league with Hood!

"You know where Hood hides, don't you?" he sneered, unable to control his fury.

"I know he hides in Sherwood," Tuck admitted, thankful Robin had blindfolded him for his own protection, before leading him to his camp. "But back to your confession. Take off the yoke of sin, my son, and God will give you rest."

Despite the arrow wound to his thigh, Gisbourne rose from his bed and stood over the friar, puffing out his chest in a threatening gesture.

"I am tired of do gooders shielding him!" he bellowed. "Hood, and anyone who aids him, deserves to die! You will tell me where he's hiding, or suffer for it!"

A chorus of barking broke out in the yard below, as Tuck's dogs sensed his danger. All three dogs burst through the door of the manor and bounded up the stairs, running to protect their master. Gisbourne's guards followed in breathless pursuit.

Tuck had closed the bedchamber door to provide privacy for the confession, and he could hear his dogs barking and leaping upon it now, scratching on the door in their efforts to come to his protection.

"My lord," Gisbourne's sergeant called through the door, "we can't stop them! The beasts bear their fangs, whenever we get close!"

"Spear them!" Gisbourne bellowed.

"No, please, my lord," Tuck begged. "I can quiet them, I assure you." Lifting his voice, he cried out, "Brownie! Thor! Caesar! Quiet! Be still!"

Immediately, the dogs stopped barking and sat outside the door, their tongues panting as they awaited their master's further orders.

"They've quieted, my lord," Gisbourne's sergeant called. "We'll take them outside."

"No," Gisbourne ordered. "Open the door. Let them come in."

Tuck gulped, then uttered another silent prayer.

The door creeked open, and Tuck's three canine companions bounded to his side, nearly knocking him over as they leapt upon his chest in the sheer joy of being once again in his presence.

"Fine company you keep," Gisbourne sneered. "Dogs and outlaws. Both covered in fleas."

"Will there be anything else, my son?" Tuck continued bravely, now that his dogs lay quietly at his feet. "I do not believe you finished your confession."

Gisbourne narrowed his eyes, leaned down, and pressed his face up against Tuck's jowls. Tuck's dogs snarled threateningly under their breath, but Tuck silenced them with a command.

"You are the one due to confess now," Gisbourne sneered. "Tell me where Hood lurks, and you and your dogs can go free."

"And if I cannot?" Tuck asked.

Without warning, Gisbourne raised his sword and drove it through the heart of the closest dog.

"Caesar!" Tuck cried, dropping to his knees beside the dog's blood soaked body.

The two remaining dogs began to whimper, and Tuck lifted his face to Gisbourne's, staring at him in stunned disbelief.

"Now," Gisbourne sneered, "tell me where Hood is, before I bloody my sword again."

"I told you, Sir Guy," Tuck stammered, fighting back tears from his eyes, "I have no idea where he makes his camp! Somewhere deep in Sherwood! That is all I know!"

Again, Gisbourne raised his sword, driving it into a second dog.

"Thor!" Tuck screamed, crying wildly now.

"Brownie, go!" Tuck ordered. "Run!"

Brownie, whimpering at the loss of his companions, rose to his feet the rushed out of the chamber.

"Stop that dog!" Gisbourne bellowed, sending a host of men after the brown, fleeing dog. "If his fat master won't lead me to Hood's camp, perhaps the hound will!"

But Brownie was too fast. Charging through Gisbourne's men, he bolted down the stairs and leaped through an open window, darting through the village and off towards the forest.

"Get after him!" Gisbourne shouted. "Don't let him out of your sight! He'll run to Hood, and then, we'll have him!"

Gisbourne's men grudgingly obeyed. They knew what would meet them should they venture too far into Sherwood. It was all very well for Guy, staying at home, but they had no desire to be met by a shower of grey goose fletched arrows!

"Thornton," Gisbourne continued raving. "Clean up this mess! Throw these mutts in the yard, and let the carrion birds eat their flesh! And get their blood off my floor! As for you, Father Dumpling, you're free to go. Don't forget my change of heart about my...my son. I mean to do right by him, don't forget."

Tuck didn't feel he could move. "May I please, at least, take my dogs away, and bury them?" he asked, weeping.

"Tell me where Hood is, and then, maybe, we can make a deal," Gisbourne sneered.

Tuck feebly shook his head. What monster was this, living in Robin's place? This was the man Marian had nearly married? Thank God she hadn't gone through with it!

Tuck's Christian mercy was at an end, temporarily at least. Rising slowly to his feet, he silently bid the bodies of his dogs goodbye, then shuffled out the door of Gisbourne's room.

"Goodbye, Sir Guy," he stammered. "May God have mercy on your blackened soul. And if demons do indeed feed on your brain, you have only yourself to blame."

...

**(Note: I did not make up the story of Tuck having faithful dogs as companions, nor Gisbourne killing them to try to find out Robin Hood's location. This is part of the stories that has been told in many versions.)**


	54. Chapter 54

The Bishop of Hereford shifted uncomfortably on his seat within his carriage, wondering how much longer it could possibly be before he arrived in Nottingham.

So far, he and his guard had made it through Sherwood Forest without incident. With every mile they travelled, he grew more and more convinced the stories he'd heard of an outlaw called Robin Hood were vastly exaggerated. His guard, too, seemed to relax as they neared the edge of the woods, spying the towers of Nottingham Castle in the distance.

Without warning, the bishop heard the captain of his guard call out, "Halt!" and felt his carriage jolt to a stop.

"What is the meaning of this?" the bishop demanded, throwing open his door and peering out at the road.

"Drive on," he commanded, when spying the reason for the delay. "It's nothing but a peasant."

"With respect, Your Reverence," his captain demurred, "the man's been wounded. Near fatally, by the looks of him. May we not render him assistance?"

A young man staggered into the road, blood dripping from his head, his bright blue eyes looking unnaturally bright, then dropped to his knees.

"What happened to you?" the bishop asked, his tone ringing with impatience.

"Robin Hood!" the sturdy young man croaked. "He robbed me! Took my last hae penny! Now I've nothin'! Please, help me! My wife's expectin' a child, and how'll I feed her now?"

"Robin Hood?" the bishop asked, unconvinced. "From what I've been told, he doesn't rob peasants! Only the rich need fear him. What would he want with your hae penny?"

"Times are hard, even for outlaws, what with the King needin' ransom money!"

"You look like a strapping young fellow. Couldn't you fight him for your money?"

Allan, enjoying his role as a wounded peasant, couldn't let that comment go unchallenged. "Yeah. Well, I coulda won, but he pulled a knife on me."

"This is an outrage!" the bishop cried. "Robbing a peasant of his only hae penny? Where is this thief, this Robin Hood now?"

Allan, pretending to be close to fainting, pointed a finger from the direction he'd come. "There's a reward on his head, too. More than 500 pounds, just waitin' for someone to claim it! Wish it'd been me. He's alone there, too, and can't shoot, 'cause I broke his bowstring in our fight. If I wasn't hurt, I'd go back in and try my luck!"

The bishop's greedy mind could visualize the reward money glittering in his coffers. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he snapped at his guard. "You heard the peasant! Get after the outlaw, and bring him to me! If I manage to capture the elusive Fox of Sherwood, Prince John will bestow an archbishopship on me! After him, fools!"

The bishop's guards took off running into the forest, hands on their sword hilts.

The bishop turned to Allan. "What are you still doing here? Be off with you!"

"I thought maybe Your Holiness might have an alm or somethin' you can give me, to feed my wife and child."

"I am not the Pope!" Not yet, anyway, the bishop was thinking. "And I thought you said your wife was expecting!"

"Oh! Right! She had it! No, wait! It's our second one. Make that our tenth. Like you said, I'm a strappin' young fellow."

"Get out of my sight! If I gave money to every peasant who begged for it, I'd have nothing left. If it's money you need, I suggest you work. Now, begone, before I horsewhip you out of my sight!"

"Horsewhipping won't be necessary," a smooth, cultured, smug male voice replied from above. "My friends and I will leave you, as soon as we've collected our toll."

The bishop watched in alarm, as the peasant tugged the cap off his head and tossed it to the ground. "What was that gooey red stuff, Robin? Looked and smelled like blood."

A man dropped to his feet from above, startling the bishop.

"Sheep's bladder, Allan," the young man answered. "Sorry about that. Convincing, though. Your acting's improving, too. You cleared the guards away."

The bishop broke into a cold sweat as even more people dropped, one by one, from the treetops. The outlaws either aimed arrows his direction, or pointed their swords at him. A huge, hairy giant, probably the one known as "Little John," was brandishing a quarterstaff. One of those holding a bow was stunningly female.

"We won't delay you, much," the leader, obviously Robin Hood, was saying. "Take everything," he instructed his men.

"Everything? You cannot touch my things! They are church property!"

The outlaw snickered, making the bishop long to slap him. "If you'd been kind, and given Allan here a coin or two when he asked, your donation would be smaller. Typically, we only take a tenth. But, since you were unkind..."

"This is an outrage! You will burn in hell for this!"

"Well, that's a risk I'm willing to take." The outlaw's eyes rested upon the bishop's hands. "Give me your rings," he ordered, softly.

"I will not!"

Robin snickered again, his manner charming and determined. "I have use for them," he smilingly told the bishop. "Especially the emerald."

"You know nothing of jewels, if you favor the emerald on my pinkie! It's worth far less than this ruby!"

"All the same, I want it."

"No."

"John?"

The giant loomed forward, and the bishop squeaked, "You're not going to cut off my fingers, are you?"

"We are not the sheriff. We do not maim. Too messy," Robin said, still charming.

Little John lunged forward, and the bishop cried, "Alright! Take them! But you will pay for this, outlaw!"

The bishop was pleased that the vile Robin Hood would indeed pay, sooner rather than later, for he could see his guard stealthily creeping back from their wild goose chase through the forest, poised to attack.


	55. Chapter 55

Living in the forest had heightened Robin's already acute senses and instincts, so that he rivalled the forest animals in knowing when danger was near. He knew it now, his strong hearing having detected the soft tread of approaching guards.

All throughout his conversation with the bishop, Robin had leaned casually on his bow while his men aimed theirs, coverring him. To his men's surprise, he now lifted his, drew an arrow from the quiver on his back, and whipped around to face the guards.

Once Much saw them, too, he lifted his voice in forced bravado, trying to conquer his fear and jaggled nerves. "You had better rethink trying to sneak up on us, Dunderheads! In case you haven't heard, we are Robin Hood, all of us, and we never miss a shot! At least, he doesn't! But all the same, you have no idea what my master can do with just one arrow!"

Stories of Robin Hood's incredible marksmanship had spread throughout England, and although the guards had found the tales impossible to believe, they hesitated, not wanting to find out their veracity the hard way.

"Cowards!" screamed the bishop. "I do not pay you to quake, motionless in your boots, watching while a band of lice ridden outlaws rob me of everything! You outnumber them! Do something!"

The captain of the guard obeyed his master, even though he believed it would mean his death, and that of most of his men. "Charge!" he cried out, raising his sword and leading his men in a mad rush toward the outlaws.

"Why doesn't he shoot?" he kept thinking, wishing that Death would be swift as well as inevitable.

But Death did not come. When he and his men were no more than twenty yards from the outlaws, their bold leader suddenly turned, and fired his arrow another direction.

The guards did not know what happened, but instead of a man to man swordfight, they found themselves suspended above the ground, trapped in a huge net, while the outlaws laughed heartily up at them.

The bishop, truly frightened now, lifted his purple cassock and took off running. The youngest of the outlaws, a tall dark headed youth with a hatchet in his belt, easily caught up with him and tackled him to the ground.

"Good work, Will!" Robin Hood sang out, his eyes twinkling with the success of his plan.

Once the guards were safely strung up above their heads, the outlaws made swift work of completing the robbery. The bishop, tied to a tree by the rough, hairy giant, watched them help themselves to his treasures, screaming out obscenities that should never have crossed a churchman's lips.

"Watch your tongue, Bishop," Robin warned him. "That lovely archer soothing your horses just happens to be my wife, and a lady."

"Whoreson bastard! Untie me now!"

Robin shook his head, smirking, "I warned you. Allan, gag him."

Once the wealth had all been collected, Robin stood cockily over the bound and gagged bishop, telling him, "I'm sorry we can't stay and continue exchanging pleasantries, but this is a busy road, and it wouldn't do for my men and me to stay here. It's dangerous in the forest. It's crawling with the wrong sort...outlaws, you know. But take heart! It won't be long until someone comes and frees you. And when you get to Nottingham, be sure to give my best to the sheriff!"

Taking a few strides, Robin stood under the guards and looked up at them, swinging above his head, trapped in a net. Addressing the captain, he asked in a friendly tone, "What's your name?"

"Gilbert," the man answered, charmed by his captor's open personality.

"Well, Gilbert," Robin continued, "you're too good a man to serve such a master. I heard you try to offer Allan aid, when you thought he was hurt, and watched you brave expected death. If you ever want to join my gang, just come to the forest. My men and I will find you."

The guard, somehow, felt he'd been honored. The notion was impossible...he had a young wife and family at home, depending on him. But still, he would never forget the nobilty of the man below, the legendary Robin Hood, inviting him to join his band.

"God save the King!" the captain called back, to which Robin and his men echoed, "God save King Richard!"

...

The mood in camp was jubilant, even with Kate's unwelcome return. Still, Robin noticed Marian being especially thoughtful and quiet, and he could guess why.

She was missing Bat, Robin knew. He missed the lad, too, but not to the exent she did.

Putting down his tankard of ale, he rose to his feet and held out a hand to his wife.

"Walk with me?" he invited.

Grateful to escape the boisterous noise and activity in the camp, Marian took Robin's offered hand, and soon the couple were wending their way towards the stream, having ignored Much's frantic demands of, "Master! Where are you going?"

Robin thought the log bridge would be the perfect spot to offer Marian the emerald ring he'd stolen from the bishop. He'd approved his wife's generous donation toward the king's ransom when she'd sent her emerald engagement ring to Count Friedrick, but the moment he'd spied an emerald on the bishop's hand, Robin wanted it to give to his wife.

Both Robin and Marian adored this spot in Sherwood, since it held so many memories for them, including being the site of their very first kiss.

Sitting side by side on the log bridge now, hands clasped and fingers entwined, Robin gazed adoringly into Marian's blue eyes and said, "Do you know, I can make it snow?"

His boast was so unexpected, she broke into a laugh, forgetting Bat for just a moment.

"Even you can't control the weather, Locksley!"

"I can make it snow," he teasingly insisted, grinning from the sight of her smile.

"In December, when there's not a trace of blue in the sky, and the first flakes start falling, I'm sure you'll remind me of this moment and seize credit."

"No, I won't. I'm going to make it snow right now, just for you, onto to your lovely shoulders and through your lovely hair."

Marian held his gaze, excited by whatever notion he held in his head. "Very well," she challenged, intrigued. "Let's see you make it snow."

Happily, Robin leaped to his feet on the bridge, drew forth an arrow, and shot it into the top of a nearby chestnut tree.

For a moment nothing happened, but then, a shower of soft white petals came fluttering from above, drifting down upon Marian's head and landing lightly on top of the water.

Marian gasped in delight. "Robin, how lovely!"

He didn't answer, just watched her face, his wonderment at her beauty matching hers for his feat.

"Close your eyes," he quietly said, after the very last petal had drifted lighty to the water.

"What now?" she asked, biting her lower lip in thrilled anticipation.

"Just close your eyes," he repeated, smiling because she never obeyed anything the first time he asked.

Marian shut her eyes and felt Robin slip something onto the ring finger of her left hand. She was trembling with excitement, her sorrow over Bat completely gone, for the moment at least.

"Now, open," Robin's dear voice instructed.

Marian opened her eyes to see a dazzling emerald ring on her finger. Impulsively, she threw her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him joyfully. But even before the kiss ended, she knew where the ring needed to go.

It was easier surrendering a piece of jewelry for the good of all, than it had been surrendering a young boy who seemed to love and trust her.

"Tomorrow, Robin," Marian asked, serious again, "let's visit the orphanage."

Robin smiled back at her, searching her eyes for the joy that was ebbing away, and nodded his head.


	56. Chapter 56

The magical beauty of Robin's "snow fall," staged solely for Marian's eyes, was followed by bleak, miserable days.

It was bad enough when Robin learned from Friar Tuck how Gisbourne had slaughtered two of his dogs, but when he and Marian visited Bat at the orphanage, they were alarmed at how ill the boy seemed.

"He's growing weaker," Sister Margery told them sadly, "and there seems to be nothing we can do to stop him wasting away, except to pray."

"No," Marian said, firmly in denial that the boy could be dying. "I won't accept that. Robin, surely Djaq can..."

Robin, not wanting to deny Marian anything he could possibly provide for her happiness, raced back to camp to fetch the Saracen. But all Djaq needed was one quick glance at Bat's strained face to know he would never be well again. No one could guess the cause of Bat's malady was Isabella of Gisbourne's slow acting poison.

"Should we take him with us, back to camp?" Marian asked Djaq, sure that her own loving care could help the boy.

"I believe he is more comfortable under this sturdy roof, in a real bed," Djaq explained, as kindly as she could. "He is sleeping now, and perhaps we should go, for our safety, as well as for everyone here in the orphanage."

Marian clearly didn't want to leave the boy's side, but after her eyes questioned Robin's, she reluctantly agreed to go with him. She knew the nuns would give Bat the best possible care, but it was so hard to leave, with his labored breathing so weak and raspy, and his thin face so pale.

"We'll come back tomorrow," Robin promised her sadly. He saw no need to mention Tuck's news of Gisbourne's offer to provide an expensive education for Bat at Kirklees Abbey, at least not while the boy was ill. Besides, he smelled a trap in Gisbourne's sudden change of heart.

Robin, Marian, and Djaq cautiously left the orphanage to travel back towards camp. Word was that Gisbourne had recovered from Robin's arrow wound, and was combing the outer edges of the forest, determined at all costs to finally capture and kill "Hood," to take his ultimate revenge for "stealing away" Marian.

Not far outside Locksley, Robin stopped in his tracks, listened, then pulled the two women accompanying him into the dense branches of a yew thicket.

"What are you doing?" Marian protested, though Djaq had allowed herself to be pulled into the hedge without a murmur of argument.

"Listen," Robin warned, and despite the desperate situation, Marian felt her lips begin to tingle, as she half expected him to kiss her. It was one of several sweet, romantic games he played with her, telling her to "listen," and then pouring out what lay on his mind in a heartfelt kiss. But Robin wasn't playing games now.

"What is it?" she asked, unable at first to hear what his ears had detected.

Thundering hoofbeats came upon them so quickly, Marian wondered how she had missed hearing them. But it was the sight of a woman fleeing on foot that made her gasp in surprise.

"Isabella of Gisbourne?" Djaq wondered, her voice just above a whisper. "Why is she running from Gisbourne's men?"

Isabella looked frantic, her eyes wide with terror, as she ran as hard as she could, trying to evade the men chasing her.

Unable to run any more, she leaned up against the trunk of a tree, gasping for breath as she hid from her pursuers.

Any trace of sympathy Marian might have felt toward the woman died, when she saw Isabella slowly lift the hem of her gown, draw it up past her shapely naked thigh, and reach for a dagger concealed in her garter. Really! It was almost as if she _knew _Robin was watching, so seductively did she lift her skirts.

And why in Heaven's name did she need a garter, when she didn't even wear stockings? Marian almost wished Gisbourne's men would catch the sly, vile vixen.

"Where are you hiding?" one of the men asked, leaping down from his saddle and scanning the trees, with drawn sword. "We know you're here somewhere. Come out now, Isabella of Gisbourne! Our master only wants to have a nice brotherly chat with you."

Isabella waited, back pressed up against the treetrunk, bosom heaving, dagger ready to strike.

Just when the men at last spotted her and made a move toward her, Marian was appalled to see Robin dart from the bush, his own sword drawn, as he began circling his opponents.

"And I thought Hide and Go Seek was a child's game," he said maliciously, his grin dangerous. "Go back and tell your master his nice, brotherly chat will have to wait. You don't play fair, outnumbering the lady, two to one. I'm here to even things out a bit."

"What is he doing?" Marian hissed, furious Robin was exposing himself to danger for Isabella's sake_. _"If he felt compelled to rescue her, why didn't he just shoot?"

Djaq was wondering that herself. "Perhaps an arrow coming from our hiding place would bring the guards upon us?" she suggested, weakly.

"No," Marian fumed. "I think he's showing off...for _her_."

"Marian, I do not think so," Djaq argued. "I am certain Robin only wants to protect her, because she is a lady in need."

"A lady? Hardly."

There wasn't time to argue, for Robin's taunting had turned into a full fledged swordfight. Marian was in the process of drawing forth her own blade and charging from the hedge to help her husband fight, when she noticed a bloody gash in his side. "He's wounded," she cried, her heart in her throat.

Isabella, Djaq noticed, no longer seemed afraid. Instead, she was smiling a grim sneer of satisfaction. "Poor Robin! Wounded, and outnumbered," she remarked smugly. "And what's more, deliciously duped!"

Robin fell to his knees, lightheaded from a blow he'd just taken to his skull, and swayed slightly, his eyes looking dazed.

"We've got him!" Isabella crowed, smiling at the men she'd only recently seemed to be fleeing. "Guy will reward you handsomely for this, and so, perhaps, will I."

"It was a trap!" Djaq exclaimed, realizing Isabella had only been acting the role of damsel in distress to flush Robin out of hiding.

"We don't have time for this! He needs us!" Marian cried, trying to leap from the hedge. She was stopped, however, by Djaq pulling her back.

"Marian, you cannot fight them. Look! There are more than three. There are...!" Djaq could only gasp.

"Gisbourne," Marian breathed the dreadful name aloud, since Djaq could not.

Sir Guy of Gisbourne, accompanied by ten more men-at-arms, rode slowly into the clearing, astride his black horse. The blow Robin had received to his head appeared to daze him so greatly, he didn't seem to recognize his enemy.

"It seems I owe you an apology, Isabella," Gisbourne stated, his eyes rivetted on Hood's helpless figure. "Your plan to capture Hood has succeeded!"

Gisbourne felt he was dreaming, so elated was he at the sight of Robin, on his knees and helpless before him. But he couldn't allow himself to savor this moment. Hood had been captured before, and had always managed to escape. Gisbourne was determined to kill him now, and he wouldn't make his former mistake of heaving the body over a cliff. He'd drain all the blood out of him, cutting off his head, even if the sheriff insisted he wanted it attached to his body.

Gisbourne's sword hissed as he pulled it from its sheath, then glittered as he held it triumphantly over Hood's head, ready to strike the deathblow.

"Make it hurt, Brother," Isabella begged. "But allow me one final goodbye first. We were once lovers, you know."

"Once is right," Gisbourne sneered. Then, furious and triumphant, he roared, "Get out of my way before I kill you, too!"

"Stop, Guy!"

Djaq could no longer hold Marian back any more than she could control the wind. With no thought to her own safety, Marian emerged from the bushes and flung herself over Robin's body, trying her best to shield him from Gisbourne's blade.


	57. Chapter 57

"Get out of the way, Woman, or I swear, I will kill you both!"

Sir Guy of Gisbourne, sword raised high above his head, looked furiously down on the woman he obsessively loved trying desperately to protect the man he fervently hated.

She was beautiful, a hundred times more beautiful in the flesh than the tortured images his mind played with again and again in the lonely blackness of his room, luring and taunting him when he could not sleep. Could not even find release for his body's pent up urges, for as he pictured her while touching himself in the dark, he would hear her laugh at him and say, "I love Robin Hood."

"Get out of the way!"

Marian refused to move. Robin was bleeding from his side, stunned and rendered helpless by a blow to his head. If Gisbourne wanted him dead, he'd have to go through her first. Hearing Gisbourne scream out an wild, impotent animal cry, she held on tighter to Robin, bracing herself for the deathblow.

They were saved, temporarily at least, by the appearance of an unlikely "hero."

Sheriff Vaisey, astride his white horse, rode into their mist.

"Very good, Gisbourne!" the sheriff crowed, unable to believe the miraculous sight his eyes beheld. "You've managed to capture not one, but two little birds! I've waited long for this day! Oh, this is good! This is good! Put your sword away, hmm? Oooh, yes, I want to toy with him first, before he dies."

Isabella stepped forward, dropping a graceful curtsey. "My lord sheriff," she said, "capturing Hood was my doing."

Vaisey enjoyed watching her throw her brother a triumphant sneer.

"Was it?" he asked. "I should have known Gisbourne wasn't able to do it alone! Well, then, you shall be rewarded!"

"My lord," Gisbourne fumed, "let me kill him now! If we keep him alive, he'll only escape again!"

"Not this time, Gisbourne."

"But, my lord-"

"I WILL NOT TOLERATE DISSENT!" Vaisey screamed. "I TOLD YOU, I WANT TO TOY WITH HIM FIRST! And, I want his death to be slow, and painful. Oh, yes! Can you hear me, Hood? I have a spectacular death planned for you!"

Vaisey waited, but was disappointed when Robin didn't respond.

"What's the matter with him? Why doesn't he answer? What's wrong, Hood, hmm? Come now, Robin! Don't keep me waiting! Where's your clever little retort, hmm?"

"He's wounded," Marian explained bitterly.

"Did I ask you to speak, Missy, hmm?" the sheriff scolded. "That was always your problem, did you know that? Speaking out, when you should have been quiet. I ought to have cut out your tongue, instead of your hair. Shall I do it now, Missy, hmm? Ooh! Ooh! Yes! I can have it cooked and fed to Hood, for his final meal before he dies! This is good! This is good!"

"My lord sheriff," Isabella interrupted, "about my reward..."

"Well? Get on with it! What is it you want?"

"We can discuss the monetary compensation later. For now, all I ask is a farewell kiss, from the prisoner."

Vaisey's lips pulled back in a vicious smile. He could certainly understand Gisbourne's leper sister's request, secretly wanting the same thing from Hood himself.

"Kiss away," he said, laughing gleefully.

"I want her to watch," Isabella sneered, indicating Marian.

Guards sprung forward, pulling Marian off Robin's body and binding her wrists and ankles. When she continued voicing objections, Vaisey ordered her gagged.

"She goes to Nottingham with me," Gisbourne insisted. "Fling her onto my horse."

"Not so fast, Brother," Isabella lightly objected. "Remember, she needs to watch me kiss her sweet, bonny Robin first."

Gisbourne lunged toward Isabella, but was stopped by Vaisey clicking his tongue. "Now, now, Gisbourne, hmm? It's all part of the fun. Let the Leper watch!"

Djaq, from her hiding place in the yew bushes, half expected Robin to spring to life and slash Marian's cords, then leap onto Gisbourne's horse and ride away with Marian to safety. But the outlaw really was injured, and beginning to lose consciousness.

Isabella rose from her curtsey, only to sink gracefully to her knees beside Robin's reclining figure. "Oh, Robin," she sighed, breathing heavily, "what we could have meant to each other, if only your cow wife hadn't returned from the dead!"

Her eyes drank in his manly beauty, as she slid a hand down the neckline of his shirt to feel the warmth and smoothness of his skin, the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. Unfortunately for her, his condition made his skin clammy, and she quickly withdrew her hand when she accidentally touched blood from the wound in his side.

Marian shut her eyes tightly, blocking out the sight of Isabella kissing her husband. She took comfort from the fact they still lived, and realized with hope that Djaq was still hidden, and could tell the gang what had befallen them.

Isabella rose to her feet, disappointed and unsatisfied by a kiss that had not only been unreciprocated, but had probably not even been felt.

Vaisey stopped himself from asking her how Hood's full lips tasted. He hoped to find out for himself soon enough, though he would prefer it if Robin were conscious, so he could kiss the smugness right off him. Snapping his fingers to indicate he needed a guard to grovel so he could step upon his back to dismount from his horse, Vaisey climbed down and sauntered closer to Robin's body.

Robin's breathing was shallow, and his eyes rolled back in his head. "Not so smug now, are you, Hood, hmm?" Vaisey gloated. Just for fun, he pulled back his foot and delivered a forceful kick to the wound in Robin's side. Blood spurted and splashed him in the face.

The kick revived Robin, but only enough for him to roll over onto his face and groan aloud.

"Oh, very good!" Vaisey crowed, wiping the blood from his face and neck. "I like this! Tie him up! It's time we take our magnificent little trophies to Nottingham!"


	58. Chapter 58

The ride to Nottingham was one of the most humiliating things Marian had ever endured.

Bound and gagged, she rode belly down on the front of Gisbourne's horse. Gisbourne kept one hand on his reins, but the other pressed firmly on her buttocks, saying nothing the entire ride.

Yet Marian's sense of humiliation was nothing compared to her worry over Robin. She knew better than to expect the sheriff or Gisbourne to grant him medical attention for his wound, and she tried not to fear the worst. She held on firmly to Hope, and faith in God, that the gang would somehow be able to free her husband. And herself.

Arriving at last in the outer bailey of Nottingham Castle, Marian felt herself being hauled down from Gisbourne's horse like a sack of flour. For one brief, horrible moment, her eyes met Guy's. The hatred in them was overwhelming. And the pain.

Why did the man have to feel this way? She'd done nothing to try to make him care for her, at least not until she and her father were prisoners in the castle. Then, she had used her beauty to help Robin and his men, but she'd done no more than bestow a few smiles on the man and a few kind words. True, she'd kissed him, once, but that was only to save Robin's life! And even then, she'd apologized for misleading him. She'd rebuffed him again and again, and he still wouldn't leave her alone! Marian began to realize Gisbourne was every bit as mad as the sheriff.

He was pulling her roughly by her arm, dragging her into the castle and down the steps to the dungeon. She searched frantically for Robin, but couldn't see him. But she could hear the heavy trod of footsteps behind her, and was certain a squadron of men must be dragging Robin toward the dungeons as well.

They had reached the bottom of the steps. The heavy timber door to the dungeons was unlocked, and opened.

Marian heard the pleased voice of Sheriff Vaisey announce, "Put the Leper in the cell lately enjoyed by her father. But as for you, Little Robin Red Breast, I have prepared more interesting accommodations for you! Oh, yes! An ordinary cell won't do, for one so slippery as you! Nor, as memory serves, will a windowless tower, for you even managed to escape that, in chains, as I recall, by flying away! So, I have created a new cell, one that is inescapable. I call it 'The Pit of Hell.' Enjoy."

Marian, still bound and gagged, fell hard to the floor of her cell from Gisbourne's violent shove, then heard the door slam shut, locking her in. Her shoulder was bruised, but she'd not hit her head on the stone floor. But where was Robin? And what was this "Pit of Hell" the sheriff had devised for him?

...

Robin was startled awake from his stupor when his body hit the ground. Every bit of him hurt, particularly his head. He wasn't sure where he was, for it was dark and damp, and stank of human waste. His side was bleeding, and he pressed a hand against his wound, to stop the blood from flowing.

Memory of his fight to save Isabella came flooding back, and he wondered how Gisbourne's guards had defeated him. He'd taken on more than two men before, and never been captured. But he knew it was always risky, the fight made doubly difficult, since he wouldn't allow himself to kill his attackers.

Where was Marian, he wondered, and Djaq? Surely they were safely away, and would let his men know he'd been captured.

But he wouldn't wait to be rescued, and put their lives at risk. First, he needed to push through the fog in his head, and try to determine his options to escape.

He was further awakened when he felt a stream of warm liquid pouring onto his head and shoulders, and he darted from its stream and looked upward.

The crisscross of a metal grate was his ceiling, and Robin could just make out the shape of three male figures standing upon it.

One was Gisbourne, that was certain. One appeared to be the sheriff, but Robin couldn't tell who was the third.

His guess was confirmed when he heard Sheriff Vaisey laughing down at him.

"What's the matter, Hood?" Vaisey mocked. "Don't care for me pissing on you, hmm?"

"Is that what it was?" Robin called back, disgusted. "You've reached a new low, Vaisey."

"A clue, my friend...no! It's you who's reached a new low! You are in the deepest pit ever dug, beneath Nottingham Castle! Oh, yes! You, Hood, are in my new dungeon cell, designed especially for your pleasure, my 'Pit of Hell!' And don't even try to think of escaping, or you'll disappoint Gisbourne here."

"Why shouldn't I escape, Sheriff? Disappointing Gisbourne is what I like doing best."

"Not this time, Robin, my friend! Gisbourne here can't wait to piss on your grave and take your wife to bed, and he can't very well do that, now can he, unless you die first."

"He can't do that at all. My wife would never have him."

"Ooh! I see I touched a nerve! This is good! This is good! But you don't understand me, my friend! You are not in a bargaining position, not while I have your Leper Wife locked up in a dungeon as well!"

Robin's pale face went even paler. "Marian?" he said, weakly. Summoning all his waning strength, he called, "Let her go, Vaisey! It's me you want, and it looks like you've got me. Let Marian go. NOW!"

Vaisey only laughed, and Robin heard the third voice speak for the first time.

"Where's my money, Outlaw?" the voice called angrily down.

Robin didn't answer, his mind too busy racing from the horrific news of Marian's imprisonment.

"Oh, I believe you know my good friend, the Bishop of Hereford," Vaisey called down gleefully. "You met when he was innocently travelling to meet me. He claims, you stole his wealth." Vaisey clicked his tongue chidingly. "Now, now, Robin, you think it was low of me to piss on you, but what about you, robbing from the church? That doesn't sound very 'Robin Hood' to me! He'd like his money back, by the way. If you tell him where you've hidden it, I might just let your leper wife go free!"

Gisbourne spoke up angrily. "No! My lord sheriff, Marian's mine!"

"Relax, Gisbourne, relax. You didn't let me finish. I was just about to say, 'A clue...no!' " Vaisey laughed with unsupressed glee.

"Then you won't free Marian?" Gisbourne demanded, still nervous.

"Of course not! But feel free to enjoy her in her cell, if you don't mind the vermin sure to be infesting her. Oh, and don't think you need to wait for Hood here to be dead and gone before you do! It's all part of his punishment! Poetry, I call it! The poetry of pain! Pain through his heart...so much more satisfying than mere physical pain, with a heart so pure and steady as his!"

"What about my money?" the Bishop of Hereford insisted.

Sheriff Vaisey turned angrily on him. "Count yourself lucky it isn't on its way to Germany! Let it rust in Hood's caskets, in his hidden outlaw camp, for eternity for all I care! Just so it doesn't find its way to Germany, and help free our glorious King Richard! That really would spell pain for you, as well as me, Reverent Father!"


	59. Chapter 59

Much was frantic at Djaq's news of Robin and Marian's capture.

"We've got to go to Nottingham and...and get him out!" he cried, pacing with his sword already drawn.

"Marian, too, Much," Djaq corrected. "We need to rescue Marian, as well as Robin."

"I knew that! It's just, we can free Robin first, and he'll know how to save Marian."

"Not bein' funny," Allan interjected, "but how do you propose we rescue him? Robin's the one with all the plans."

"I don't know! But we can't just stay here, arguing! We've got to go to Nottingham and get him out!"

"I'll go," Will volunteered.

"I'll go, too," Kate offered.

"We all go," Little John commanded.

Djaq nodded her head, and everyone then looked to Allan.

"Oi! I'll come, too. But I sure hope one of us thinks up a good plan, before we get there!"

...

Marian's bruised shoulder screamed with pain, but it would take more than agony to stop her from rubbing the ropes binding her wrists against the bars of her dungeon cell, trying to loosen them. Her thoughts were all for Robin.

She could only pray he was still alive, and not suffering too much from his wound. He needed her, she was certain, and she felt she'd do anything in the world to help him now, if she only got the chance.

She didn't realize her resolve would be tested so soon, until Guy of Gisbourne appeared outside her cell, ordering the jailor to depart, so he could have a word alone with the prisoner.

"Come here," Gisbourne ordered, not at all surprised when Marian did not readily obey. "COME HERE! Turn around. I'll remove your gag, so we can talk."

It was a relief to have the gag loosened, for it had hurt. But Marian pushed aside her pain, for she knew she'd need to employ all her wits and wiles, to help her husband.

"Thank you, Guy," she began, trying to sound humble and respectful. As with most of her previous dealings with him, she strove for a balance of friendliness and respect to pierce through his armor and soften his cold, cruel heart. It would take all her abilities to get him to trust her again, but it was the only way she believed she might save Robin. "I was hoping you might come, after everything we've been through together," she told him softly.

"What?" he sneered, so bitterly Marian was glad of the bars separating them. "We've been through NOTHING together! Nothing that was real! You are a liar! The whole time you pretended to care for me, you were spreading your legs for my enemy!"

"No, it wasn't like that!"

"Don't insult me, Whore. Look at you now, locked in the same cell where your weak, cowardly father was held, an outlaw's bride! I wouldn't have you now, if you came crawling on your hands and knees."

Despite her resolve to trap him, the insult to her father's memory so angered her, she had to speak her mind. "Are you so deluded, that you'd think I'd ever crawl to you? I've wanted nothing from you from the day we met, then to be left alone. I never asked to be your absolution, a pretty bauble you could wear on your arm, to make you feel yourself a man! I hate you, Guy of Gisbourne. I once thought you might change, choose to turn away from evil and do good. But there's no good in you at all, is there? It's no wonder you were deprived of love. You're completely undeserving."

Like a flash of lightening, Gisbourne reached out and grabbed Marian around her throat, shoving her head against the bars of her cell. "I could kill you now, with one hand," he sneered furiously into her terrified face.

Marian strove to regain her digniity, and she bravely managed to say, "What, again, Guy? Even after I sewed up your wound, and made certain innocent Friar Tuck found you in the forest? I could easily have let you die!"

"Perhaps it would have been better if you had!" he cried out, baring his emotion.

He began shaking violently, but Marian felt his grip on her throat loosening. With a wild animal cry, he let her go, flinging her body across the cell.

Marian struck the back wall and fell to a heap on the stone floor. Before she could catch her breath, Gisbourne was kneeling beside her.

"Marian," he whispered hoarsely, "did you never once know what I was feeling?"

Marian could only stare at him, disgusted by his tortured dramatics, while she tried to decide her next few moves. The cell door was open, the jailor gone. If she could only get Guy to untie her bonds, she'd have a chance to escape.

Somehow, she knew, she would find Robin, and all would be well again.


	60. Chapter 60

"Marian," Gisbourne breathed, his voice filled with tortured longing, "why do you always force me to hurt you?"

Every muscle aching, sprawled upon the stone floor where Gisbourne had flung her, Marian lifted her head and stared at the man on his knees beside her, her mind quickly calculating what to say to secure her release.

She had to rescue Robin, and she'd say anything to help him now. She hated lying, but she had grown skilled at deceiving Gisbourne, and with the jailor gone and her cell unlocked, she knew she had to seize this opportunity for escape.

"I suppose," she lied, steadily meeting his piercing gaze, "there's truth to the saying, 'We always hurt the ones we love.' "

She did not believe it for a moment. She knew first hand what true love was.

Certainly she and Robin argued. In fact, there were times when they even enjoyed the sparks flying between them as they raised their voices in disagreement. But hurting one another? No. Love had nothing to do with causing pain, and everything to do with kindness, caring, unity, respect. Love was expressed encouraging one another, not destroying everything one loved.

In a flash, Marian relived memories of Gisbourne torching her home, beating Robin's body as he swung from a rope over a pit of vipers, ordering Allan to burn her Nightwatchman costume, and worse still, plunging his sword through her body. Yet the thought that unsettled her most was the memory of Gisbourne showing her her own dagger, just after she'd leaned over her father's lifeless body. "When the sheriff finds out it was your dagger that killed his jailor," Gisbourne had threatened, "he will hang you."

A threat, meant to terrify her into accepting him. "I've always had feelings for you," he'd murmured, kissing her hair. Feelings! If those feelings had had anything to do with Love, he would have given her back her dagger, instead of implying he would show it to the sheriff himself, unless she submitted to his caresses.

"How can you dare to speak that word to me?" Gisbourne was crying now. "You, who've done nothing but lie to me, since Hood returned from war! I was a fool not to have known! It all makes sense now! Your little rides through the forest, Hood staying ahead of the sheriff's plans, even the jeweled arrow you wore on your belt!"

Marian watched in surprise as Gisbourne pulled something from under his doublet. It was her small golden belt buckle, the one she'd worn on her red riding jacket, fashioned in the shape of an arrow. She'd seen Gisbourne glare at it in curiosity and disgust in the past, and she'd felt a sense of triumphant when she saw him seem to push his doubts of her allegiance to Robin aside. She wanted to say, "Yes, I was bold wearing that, flaunting my feelings for the man I love. The man whose principles I love." But instead, she murmured, as if she were moved, "You wear my jewel above your heart? Guy!"

"You still have no idea what you've made me suffer?" Gisbourne cried. "What you still make me suffer? I live in hell, Woman, and you are the one who put me there!"

Marian tried to think of the words that would make him untie her, so she could escape by fighting her way past him. She was counting on the element of surprise assisting her, for she knew she could never win without it, not against Gisbourne's sheer physical strength.

But she didn't need to speak another lie, for just then, an arrow sizzled past Gisbourne's cheek, startling him so greatly he sprang to his feet.

"I feel I must dispute your point, Gisbourne," Robin's cocky voice miraculously sang out, as clear and strong as if he'd never been wounded. "You don't need any help putting yourself in Hell. You're there of your own doing. As my lovely wife once taught me, everything we do is a choice."


	61. Chapter 61

If Gisbourne dared to remove his glare from Robin's threatening gaze, his doubts concerning Marian's true feelings would be laid to rest, once and for all.

Marian's entire face lit up when she saw Robin, bow raised, standing boldly at the entrance of her dungeon cell.

There was no love on her husband's face, however. His eyes burned with hatred, having discovered Marian bound and sprawled on the filthy floor, with his enemy standing over her.

"Take my knife," Robin was telling an unknown figure standing just behind him. "You remember Gilbert, Marian?" he said, sounding almost charming. "He pulled me out of the sheriff's Pit of Hell. Now, Gilbert, untie my wife."

"Do, and you die," Gisbourne threatened, unsheathing his sword.

Gilbert, the Bishop of Hereford's sergeant-at-arms, broke into a cold sweat and hesitated. It had been one thing to throw aside his career and brave the sheriff's guards to rescue Robin Hood, but hand-to-hand combat with Sir Guy of Gisbourne was another matter.

Robin understood his new friend's fear, and respected it.

"Is that how you want to play, Gisbourne?" he asked, fuelled by anger. "Very well. Gilbert, your sword, if you please."

"Robin, no!" Marian cried from across the cell. But Robin did not heed her.

Marian watched in impotent frustration as her husband exchanged his bow for Gilbert's sword. His own sword was back at camp, she believed, not knowing Much had brought it to Nottingham with the rest of the gang, and was swinging it, point down, as he paced back and forth within the city gates, trying to figure out a way to break into the castle.

"Don't be a fool!" Marian ordered her husband, frustrated beyond belief at the irrationality that always overtook him when confronted by Gisbourne. "We have a better chance to escape with you aiming an arrow at him, not fighting with a sword!"

"We do," Robin agreed, boldly striding forward to meet his enemy. "But not half the satisfaction."

Robin wanted to kill Gisbourne for having hurt Marian, and his conscience wouldn't allow him to simply shoot an arrow through his heart. "Stay back," he ordered her. "I have more than one score to settle here today."

Robin was circling Gisbourne now, getting the feel for Gilbert's sword, his burning eyes never leaving Gisbourne's face. "This," he said, suddenly raising the sword and charging, "is for the people of Locksley!"

Marian pulled herself to her feet and made her way around the cell's perimeter, to join Gilbert at the entrance. "He's mad, fighting wounded!" she fumed, watching the swordfight. "Untie me, then hand me his bow."

Gulping back his fear, Gilbert obeyed. His eyes grew wide when he saw Marian align an arrow to the bow and point it directly at Gisbourne.

"Now," she called, lifting her voice to carry over the clash of iron and steel, "drop your weapons. There is one thing my husband and I do not share, Guy of Gisbourne. _He_ has qualms about shooting you when you have no chance to defend yourself."

"Marian, what are you doing?" Robin asked, frustrated and panting from exertion.

"Rescuing you from your folly," she answered, pleased to have stopped the fight. "From one of your follies," she added. "When we return to camp, you and I need to have a long discussion about how you got us into this mess to begin with!"

"He fell for my sister's trap," Gisbourne sneered. "He still has feelings for her, Marian."

"Shut up," Marian barked, still pointing an arrow Gisbourne's direction.

"Put down my bow," Robin commanded her. "I haven't finished with him yet."

"He claims I put him in Hell," Marian said, not about to obey. "Finish this now by putting him there."

"That's exactly what I was trying to do!" Robin shouted.

"I don't mean literally," Marian snapped. "Put him in that Pit of Hell you mentioned. Let him stew down there, while we three get out of here!"

A slow, smug, angry smile crept across Robin's face. "Now that is an idea we can all agree on!" he sang out. Turning back to Gisbourne, he laughed out a single, "Ha!" then smugly said, "You heard my wife, Gisbourne! Drop your sword! NOW!"

"I will shoot you, Guy," Marian threatened. "I swear I will."

"No," Gisbourne sneered. "You won't. You feel for me too much. You've always been stirred by me. You know it's true."

Before Marian could respond, Robin had seized his bow and fired the arrow himself. It struck Gisbourne's sword hilt, grazing the fingers that gripped it. Gisbourne dropped his sword and swore out an oath.

Immediately, Robin, Marian, and Gilbert were on him, binding his wrists and ankles with the same bonds that had only recently held Marian. To stop the stream of filthy curses, Robin gagged his mouth, shoving a knee harder than he needed into his enemy's chest, knocking the air from his lungs.

With Marian following closely behind, Robin and Gilbert dragged Gisbourne's flailing body to the open grate over the sheriff's "Pit of Hell," then Robin stood and kicked him in. Gisbourne's body landed with a thud, and more muffled curses rose from below.

Laughing scornfully, Robin closed the grate over the pit and slid the locks into place.

"See ya, Gisbourne!" he called down, then turned bright eyes on Marian and Gilbert.

"You two ready to run?" he cheerfully asked.

"Is he coming with us?" Marian asked, indicating Gilbert.

Robin smiled at his new friend. "He's joining us," he answered brightly. "I need him for protection."

"Protection?" she repeated, confused. "Protection from what?"

"You," he laughed, then murmured quietly in her ear. "With Gilbert in tow, I suspect you'll hold back your tongue lashing, at least until we're back at camp."

Marian's jaw dropped open indignantly, then she breathed deeply and rolled her eyes.

"Don't count on it, Locksley," she said, almost smiling.


	62. Chapter 62

Two lone women without a male escort wended their way through the deep lushness of Sherwood Forest, one bold and unafraid, her serving woman terrified at every step.

"Aimee, don't be such a ninny! My lady mother the Queen assured me all I needed to do was venture into these woods, and Robin would find me."

Aimee stared in bafflement at her mistress, the beautiful Princess Johanna of England, Dowager Queen of Sicily, and Countess of Toulouse. Years of anguish and worry seemed to have dropped from her mistress's shoulders, and she almost appeared a girl again, as she lightheartedly stepped over fallen trees and dense forest bracken.

"Look!" Johanna cried, lifting a finger to silence her maid. "We must be very close now! Oh, how absurd! How delightfully Robin!"

Aimee looked the direction her mistress indicated, and was amazed to see a three legged doe staring calmly at them through the trees. One of the doe's forelegs ended in a short stump, and had been carefully bandaged.

Aimee was further surprised to hear the Countess's silvery laughter ring out joyfully, frightening the doe away. She hadn't heard her mistress laugh in years, not since her ladyship's current husband Raymond, the cruel and abusive Count of Toulouse, revealed his true colors and began to openly beat and belittle her.

"Only Robin would tend so carefully to the hurt and lowly," Johanna said, wiping tears of merriment from her green eyes. Growing suddenly somber again, she whispered under her breath, "Perhaps you'll care for me at last, Robin of Locksley, now that I, too, am so unfortunate."

...

Much was pestering Gilbert with friendly questions as the gang happily followed Robin back to their outlaw camp.

The gang had been delighted beyond belief when they saw Robin and Marian, accompanied by the Bishop of Hereford's Sergeant, come darting from the castle, running with all their might toward Nottingham's city gate. Of course, they also picked up their heels and followed their leader, only slowing their steps once they were safely concealed in the cover of Sherwood.

"Why do they call you Gilbert the White Hand?" Much asked, after his curiosity had been satisfied concerning Robin's rescue.

"People claim I do good deeds," Gilbert humbly replied. "You know, share my goods with those less fortunate than myself, whenever I have goods to share."

"Well! You've joined the right gang then, hasn't he, Master?" Much cried, delighted. "That happens to be our specialty! Though I can't exactly say we share, when we give everything away!"

"That's because it's not ours to begin with," Robin affectionately reminded him. Turning to Gilbert, he asked, "May I ask you a question? How did you end up in the Bishop's service? He hardly seems a worthy master for a man like you."

"Thank you. He's not. But I didn't know that when I enterred his service. I thought a man of the cloth would practice what he preached. I was wrong."

"Well, you're with us, now," Robin kindly told him, with a swagger in his step.

Robin noticed a shadow pass over Gilbert's face, and he gently guessed, "It's alright. You don't have to stay. You have family depending on you, don't you?"

"A wife and small son."

"A boy! What are their names?"

Marian flushed, realizing again how greatly Robin adored children. She wondered how Bat was faring, determined to visit him before the sun set.

"My wife's named Rose," Gilbert replied softly, "and her name suits her. We named our son after me, but we call him Bertie."

Gilbert looked so unhappy, the entire gang slowed their steps and gathered around him.

"We'll find you a new position, somewhere safe," Robin assured him. "We don't break up families. So, Will, you won't need to make Gilbert his own outlaw tag after all, unless its an honorary one! He's our guest, and I expect you, Allan, to treat him as one."

"Oi! Why'd you single me out for? I got manners!"

Relief flooded Gilbert's face, and he extended his hand to Robin. "I shall enjoy every minute I spend in Robin Hood's Band! Thank you, my friend, in advance, for helping me!"

"Don't mention it, my friend," Robin replied back. "It's what we do. Besides, I should be the one thanking you! Gilbert saved my life!"

Much was all over Gilbert at that. "Thank you!" he cried, trying to hide his sentimental tears that wouldn't stop flowing as he pumped Gilbert's hand enthusiastically up and down.

Marian tugged on Robin's sleeve, stopping him just after he resumed walking.

"We're close to the stream," she informed him. "I need to wash your wound."

Robin scoffed good naturedly. "That cat scratch?" he jested. "It's fine, my love."

"It must be washed, or you might take a fever," she warned him. "You're stalling. Admit it, Locksley. You don't want to be alone with me."

Robin grinned wickedly down into her eyes. "Now, when have I ever not wanted to be alone with you?" he asked, leaning down to steal a kiss.

Marian stopped his kiss by a lift of her hand, but her eyes teased back at him. "Your wound cannot wait any longer," she reminded him, with an air that would stand no argument.

"Nor my lecture, I suppose," Robin added, breathing out a sigh. Lifting his voice, he told the gang to go on ahead. "Marian and I will meet you back at camp," he explained. "She needs to wash my wound."

"Is that a euphemism?" Much asked suspiciously, making everyone else laugh.

...

Shirtless, Robin waited in silence while Marian gently cleaned the wound in his side.

She hadn't spoken a word yet concerning Isabella, but the air hung heavy between them, and he wished she would just say something and be done with it.

"I could continue undressing, if you'd like," Robin teased, breaking the silence between them.

Marian bit back her words. In actuality, she was worried about the bruises Gisbourne had given her, knowing Robin would go ballistic when he saw them.

How long would they last, she wondered. How long could she stall, and hide them from her husband?

"Alright, Marian," Robin said at last, "say something. I was a fool, coming to Isabella's rescue. I should have known it was a trap. The woman is treacherous and doesn't deserve my regard."

"Regard?" she repeated indignantly, lifting her eyebrows. "Is that what you call it?"

"She deceived me, alright? I thought she was truly in need."

"She's very good at deceiving you, Robin."

"Agreed. But you don't need to be angry! How many times must I tell you, there was nothing, ever, between us?"

"I shouldn't expect you to have lived like a monk, when you believed me dead," Marian countered. "But I wish you would have had better sense than to coax _that_ woman into your bed."

Angry now, Robin laughed a single, harsh laugh. "There wasn't any coaxing involved," he bragged, "unless it was on her part."

The look on Marian's face made him instantly regret his words.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said, sounding truly contrite. "I've told you, it was a mistake. I was only trying to find you again, and she was excellent at making me believe she was like you."

Robin thought they had buried the pain of his tryst with Isabella months ago. He realized sadly that it was a wound Marian would suffer for a long time yet to come.

"Why were you so quick to jump in and rescue her today?" Marian demanded angrily. "Why, Robin? You know what she's like! Why do you continue to let yourself be fooled by her?"

He was unable to answer, for he heard a sound, and was instantly on the alert for danger. Still only half dressed, he sprang to his feet, pulled Marian to hers, then guarded her body with an arrow nocked to his bow.

The bushes parted, and two lovely women stepped through.

The first one, a tall, regal, tawny haired lady, gasped with pleasure and smiled at the magnificent half naked form of the archer pointing his bow at her.

"Robin of Locksley!" she cried, and Marian saw Robin smile in wonderment and drop on one knee in respect. "I bring news of my brother, the King!"


	63. Chapter 63

Sheriff Vaisey strutted excitedly down the steps to his dungeons, eager to enjoy yet another one of his "little chats" with Robin Hood. And just perhaps, this time, they might do more than chat!

Could he risk bringing Hood up from his Pit of Hell, so he could spank his round, hard, tight little ass?

A clue...no. As much as Vaisey longed to do it, he couldn't take the risk. Hood was too slippery, too clever by half, as Vaisey knew from experience.

Reminiscing as he made his way to his latest "improvement" to his dungeons, Vaisey recalled the very first time he had ever laid eyes on Hood.

He'd been nervous before his Council of Nobles, knowing Locksley would attend, and had carefully dressed himself in ermine, a symbol of his power and importance.

When it was time, he opened the Council with ununsual pomp and ceremony, but Locksley had not been in attendance.

A strange mixture of disappointment and relief flooded him, but annoyance set in, as minutes ticked by, and no Locksley showed himself.

At last, the man arrived, LATE, was announced, and appeared at the top of the stairs, impudent and smug, making light of his tardiness.

"Well, carry on!" he had mockingly called down, undressing as he swaggered down the steps.

Well, not exactly undressing. Disarming himself, as was required. But the effect was the same, and Vaisey had felt his blood tingle within him at the sight of Locksley's pretty little face atop his pretty little body, coupled with an air of bold masculinity and cheeky impudence.

He was irresitible, and deadly! And when he openly defied him, Vaisey wanted to slap him senseless, and kiss the impertinence right off his lips!

Smooth, smug, swaggering, and so cocksure of himself! Vaisey hated the man at first sight. Hated, and wanted him!

Then, wonder of wonders, he turned his back, and Vaisey let his eyes trail down to rest upon those firm, tight little butt cheeks! Vaisey's blood did more than tingle, it screamed with desire!

It was clear they'd be enemies from the moment they met. But Vaisey had been confident he could crush Locksley's boldness, and force him to comply to his will.

Did it happen? A clue...no. He had underestimated Hood. No wonder! The man was crazy! Who would have ever thought the man would throw away his lofty inheritance to rescue a few meager peasants from the gallows? It was unthinkable!

Well, their little ongoing battle of wills was just about to end. Pity, really. Vaisey would miss sparring with Hood. But the satisfaction of having him dead, at last, would more than compensate for the sense of loss and boredom he would feel, without Hood in the world to taunt him.

Victory was just around the corner, and Vaisey couldn't resist visiting Hood to rub it in, and watch him squirm.

Arriving at the Pit of Hell, Vaisey was alarmed to note the absence of guards.

"Guards! he screamed, then froze in silence and dread, as he suspected his worst fears.

Muffled gagging sounds came from the pit below the heavy iron grate. Vaisey peered down into the darkness, but the light was too dim to reveal what was making those infernal noises below. Seizing a torch from a wall sconce, Vaisey bent over the grate and held the torch low.

What he saw there made him nearly explode in frustration and rage.

"GISBOURNE!" Vaisey screamed. "What are YOU doing in my Pit of Hell? And WHERE, in the name of all things unholy, IS HOOD?"

...

"Oh, Robin," Princess Johanna merrily laughed, as Robin bowed on one knee before her. "Don't be so silly. Arise! We are old friends, remember?"

Smiling, Robin rose gallantly to his feet, holding out a hand to help Marian rise as well. Marian didn't appreciate being ignored by Her Royal Highness, nor did she like such a lovely, well dressed woman eyeing her husband's extremely attractive naked torso. Marian quickly handed Robin his shirt, and he hastily pulled it over his head.

"Your Highness," Robin began politely, "may I present my wife, the Lady Marian? I believe you two have met before."

"Your Highness," Marian said formally, inclining her head.

"I vaguely remember meeting you, when we were children," Princess Johanna mentioned. "But the stories I've heard about you far outshine my memories! My brother the King told me how you saved his life, nearly dying yourself in the process. My family, as well as all of England, owes you a tremendous debt of gratitude."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Marian replied, smiling at the look of pride shining on Robin's face.

Robin took his wife's hand in his and pressed it to his lips. "I thought I'd lost her," Robin confessed, pushing back the pain that memory resurrected.

"Thankfully, no," the princess responded, somewhat coldly. Her woman's eyes had quickly taken in the obvious love Robin showered upon his radiantly beautiful wife, crushing her dreams of a possible romance with the devastingly attractive Earl of Huntington.

Robin and Marian both looked toward the princess's maid, Aimee, waiting politely to be introduced. "My serving maid, Aimee," Princess Johanna thought at last to mention.

"Robin Hood," Robin introduced himself charmingly.

"Lady Marian," Marian informed her, warm yet formal.

"You say you bring news of the King?" Robin asked eagerly, now that the introductions had taken place.

"I do indeed," the princess said with a smile. Pulling forth a sealed letter, Johanna surprised Robin by handing it directly to Marian.

"It's from Count Friedrick," Marian explained, recognizing the seal.

"A charming man," the princess sighed, fondly recalling a single illicit night she'd spent alone with the count. "You made quite an impression on him, my dear, when he was in England."

"The feeling was mutual," Marian responded, hiding a small triumphant smile when she heard Robin snort with ill hidden jealousy.

"Count Friedrick writes frequently to my wife," Robin explained, not even bothering to hide his irritation. "Marian finds his letters amusing. I do not."

"Friedrick is a very amusing man," the princess said, meeting Marian's eyes with an understanding glimmer.

For some reason, Marian looked away, blushing. The princess seemed to be implying there was more to her friendship with the count, cheapening it. If the children of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine followed their parents' examples and availed themselves of numerous lovers, so be it. But that didn't mean everyone in England lived that way!

"Now," Princess Johanna was saying, looking at Robin as though her eyes couldn't take in enough of him, "if you would be so good as to escort Aimee and myself to your famous outlaw camp! We have travelled far too long without a man to protect us."

"I'm afraid I'll have to blindfold you, for your own protection," Robin apologized.

"Protection? From my little brother John? Robin! You mustn't be ridiculous!"

"You underestimate your brother, I'm afraid," Robin told her. "Now, Joan, close your eyes. Just pretend we're children at Windsor again, playing a game of Blind Man's Bluff."

Johanna laughed her silvery laugh again. Marian was beginning to grow annoyed by it. And she didn't like it one bit, the way Robin had familiarily called Her Royal Highness "Joan."

"Very well, Robin," Johanna agreed. "I am your prisoner. Lead me to your camp, so Marian may read the count's charming confessions to her in private."

"Charming confessions," Robin fumed, under his breath.

"We have no secrets from one another, Your Highness," Marian said, her temper short. Handing the sealed note to her husband, Marian told him, "Robin, would you please do the honors and read the letter to me? My head is beginning to pound."

Robin grinned boyishly back at his wife. "I'm sorry for your headache, Marian. It has been quite an exhausting day. I'll be happy to read it to you, once we've introduced our new guests to the gang."


	64. Chapter 64

"Freed!" Robin cried, with an equally ecstatic Marian in his arms. "King Richard's coming home at last!"

Count Friedrick's flirtatious note to Marian lay trampled underfoot, forgotten in the joyous news it relayed of the king's trial in Germany, and his release from captivity.

"When do you think he'll arrive in England?" Marian asked. "And how long before we know?"

Robin could only grin back at her, uncertain himself. "I don't know," he answered, "but I think this calls for a celebration!"

"Before we celebrate," Marian said, looking earnestly into her husband's eyes, "I'd like to visit Bat."

"Of course! I'll get Djaq, in case-"

Mercifully, Robin didn't finish his thought. Bat had definitely looked unwell when they saw him earlier, and Robin shared his wife's concern over the boy.

When they saw him sitting up in his bed in the orphanage, however, they couldn't be more pleased. His eyes looked bright, and he broke into a smile at their approach. Only Djaq could tell the child was worse, and close to death. Sister Margery privately confirmed her fears.

"He won't eat. He's taken nothing but water. But it's not like any fever I've ever seen."

"Could it be poison?" Djaq guessed correctly.

"If it is, it's too late to help him now. I fear he'll be with the angels before long, God rest his sweet soul."

Djaq felt it kinder not to say anything yet to Robin or Marian. They were sitting on Bat's bed, with the other children from the orphanage surrounding them, while Robin entertained them all with one of his hilarious, fanciful bedtime stories.

When it was finished and Bat could barely keep his eyes open, Marian softly sang him a lullaby, then laid his sleeping head on his pillow.

"I love you," she murmured, kissing his clammy forehead. "We'll be back tomorrow to see you."

"Stay strong," Robin whispered, blinking back a tear from his eye.

...

Returning to their outlaw camp, they discovered the celebration already underway.

"Where's Allan?" Robin asked, not seeing his smooth talking friend anywhere.

Much looked indignantly self righteous.

"He's disappeared, with Aimee! He said they were going for honey! Unbelievable! I ask you, who goes for honey at night?"

Princess Johanna smiled knowingly. "Someone else will just have to brush my hair before I retire, for we won't be seeing Aimee until morning!" Holding her silver hairbrush out towards Robin, she slyly invited, "Robin! Do you think you can handle a brush as well as you do a sword?"

Vastly irritated, Marian grabbed the brush away. "Allow me, Your Highness," she said brusquely. "One look at my husband's head ought to tell you what a mistake it would be, letting him brush your hair."

"I don't know," the princess cooed. "I think he looks charming with that shaggy mane of his."

"I wasn't referring to him," Marian warned her.

"Touche," the princess said with a smile, making everyone who had grasped the situation relax.

Handing Robin a tankard of ale, Much said, "Tell us, Your Highness, how Robin and I saved you in Messina!"

"That ancient history?" she laughed, but everyone seemed to want to hear the story.

"Well," she began, "it happened years ago-"

"When Robin and I set sail with the King on Crusade!" Much interrupted.

"Shut up!" Kate barked. "Are you telling the story, or is she?"

Poor Much looked crestfallen, until Robin threw him a wink.

Marian looked intensely interested, never having heard the story before. There were gaps in their histories when she and Robin had been parted for five long years, and she wanted to know more about the time he had been far away.

"I was a new widow," Johanna began, "for my husband, poor sickly William, had finally died. But don't feel bad for me! I never loved the man, though there are worse husbands." She seemed to shiver, as she recalled the cruel and violent man to whom she was currently wed.

"Please go on," Marian invited, sitting next to Robin.

"Very well. I wanted nothing so much as to go home. My brother Richard had promised me, I could choose my own husband next! But alas, it was not to be."

Johanna stared boldly into Robin's face, her meaning clear. Robin smoothly steered her story back on course.

"Allow me, Your Highness," he said politely. "The King learned Joan here had been imprisoned in Sicily, by her late husband's brother, and we sailed straight to her rescue."

"You did," she confirmed. "It was a carnival, really," she said, making Much, who had endured his first frightening taste of battle on those Sicilian shores, drop his jaw in disbelief. "I couldn't really blame Tancred for wanting to marry me, after his brother died," she continued, every inch the spoiled princess. "I'd spent my marriage flirting with him! He was, after all, quite the more attractive of the two brothers, though I never got the taste for being kissed by such flabby lips, even under the lovely Sicilian moon! Anyway, when his brother the king, my husband, died and I told Tancred I was planning to go home to England, he protested. He made quite a spectacle of himself, openly declaring his love for me, and locking me in a tower! Of course, he continued to woo me, and I had to be the most pampered prisoner you'd ever seen! But I wanted to go home, and select my own husband."

She paused for breath, staring again at Robin. Marian's eyes burned back at her, but Johanna airily laughed it off.

"One morning, while I lay abed," she continued, "trying to enjoy my sleep, I was awakened by a frightful clanging. Every bell in the city was ringing, for my brother's ships had landed, and he'd stormed Messina's walls. I still remember how he burst into my chamber, joking he'd knocked over Tancred's 'toy soldiers!' Do you remember that, Robin? You stood right behind him, deliciously dripping with battle sweat, while I was fresh and lovely, still in my nightclothes!"

"How could I forget?" Robin said gallantly, then stiffled an "Ow!" and looked wounded when Marian stamped on his foot.

"Robin was my hero," Johanna resumed, "boldly coming to my rescue, and it was wonderful seeing him again, after being parted for a span of years!"

"I liked Messina, after the battle, of course," Much interrupted. "We spent Christmas there, and the king showered us with gifts."

"King Richard is very generous," Robin confirmed, his face lighting up in a smile as he thought again about the king's imminent return.

"On that note, " Johanna said with a yawn, "I feel I'd best go to bed. I hope I can sleep on a bunk! At least I know I'll be safe, surrounded by such brave, strong men!"

Her eyes once again gazed longingly at Robin, and he couldn't resist saying, "You've nothing to fear, unless it's the snores coming from Little John!"

"But if your mother can sleep through them, I suppose you can," Much added, then bit his tongue, saying, "Oh! I shouldn't have said that!"

Robin was eager, too, to head for bed. He wanted to make certain there were no lingering doubts in Marian's mind concerning Isabella, and he couldn't wait to romance his wife and make her aware of his true feelings.

But Marian had other thoughts. She wasn't about to let Robin see the bruises on her body, and for the first time in their marriage, she felt she would have to lie and hold herself aloof from him.


	65. Chapter 65

Marian hadn't been truthful when she told Princess Johanna there were no secrets between Robin and herself. She was harboring a secret now, for she feared his reaction if he saw the heavy bruises Gisbourne had inflicted on her arms and thighs.

The moment they were alone, Robin caught her up in his arms, taking her breath away.

"Well," he said, smiling down with the adoring look he so often cast upon her. "Like I said earlier, it's been quite a day!"

"An exhausting day," Marian replied, unhappy about deceiving and rebuffing him. "I'm very tired, Robin."

Robin knew immediately there was more to Marian's refusal to advances he had yet to make. Her body felt stiff in his arms, and tense. Gently, he let her go.

"Does your head still hurt?" he asked with loving concern.

"Yes. I mean no. I just need to get some sleep, is all."

Marian was annoyed at how poorly she had lied. It had been so easy to lie to Gisbourne, but lying to the man she loved was another matter entirely.

Removing only her boots, she lay stiffly down upon their "bed" of heather and turned onto her side, facing away from her husband.

Very soon, she felt Robin nestling beside her, wrapping her body in his arms. He leaned up on one elbow and placed a tender kiss on her mouth, then lay back down again.

A few moments of silence were followed by Robin gently asking, "Marian, is something wrong?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she answered, wishing his fingers stroking her hair didn't feel quite so wonderful.

"You know I love you," he reminded her, certain her tension stemmed from her unfounded jealousy of Isabella.

"I love you, too. Goodnight."

Another brief silence ended with Robin saying, "I can tell something's bothering you, Marian. I think we need to talk."

Talking couldn't hurt, Marian decided. Besides, she did want to discuss Princess Johanna.

"I never knew the princess was so like her brother," Marian began.

"Aside from their appearance and bravery, and the fondness between them, I don't think she is," Robin responded, glad that Marian was finally opening up.

"I wasn't referring to the King. I meant Prince John."

Robin scoffed. "John? They're nothing alike! Alright, granted they're both spoiled and self centered, but Joan's no monster. And she doesn't hurt others, when her temper flairs. More often, she turns it on herself and does something stupid."

"Like what?"

"Like marrying a vicious husband she didn't love, just to show Richard and...and others."

"Is her husband so cruel?"

"Toulouse? He's not as bad Gisbourne would be, as husbands go, but he's no gentleman, either."

The dig against Gisbourne made Marian stiffen, and she quickly asked another question.

"Why did she marry him, then? If she didn't love him, I mean. Was she forced?"

Robin would only tell her half the story. The unspoken half was that Johanna, living with the Crusaders in the Holy Land, had been respectfully turned down by Robin of Locksley.

"She grew furious at Richard, with good reason. He offered her as a bride to Saladin's brother, as part of their peace negotiations."

Marian gasped, and rolled over to face her husband. "He wouldn't! I thought you said he was fond of her!"

"He is! And he had no intention of letting her marry him. The man already had four or five wives. But the offer looked good for peace. Richard added the stipulation that al-Adil first convert to Christianity, before the marriage could take place, knowing he'd refuse."

"I assume 'Joan' didn't care? That she didn't appreciate being used as a pawn?" For the first time, Marian felt a sense of kinship with the princess.

Robin couldn't resist kissing the tip of his wife's nose. "You catch on quickly!" he teased. "At least, if someone tried that with you, you wouldn't elope with your brother's enemy. You'd wage war on your brother!"

"I thought Saladin was the king's enemy, not Toulouse."

"You're right, politically. Personally, Toulouse is one of the king's enemies. He'd side with Prince John, if he wasn't married now to Richard's favorite sister."

Marian wasn't even aware that she'd wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and was letting her fingertips play in his hair.

"Well," she added, after thinking a moment about what Robin had told her, "she certainly likes you!"

"She likes the outer trappings," he confided with a wink. "She's never taken the time or effort to find out what lies underneath."

"So, she can't see straight into your soul?" Marian teased, playfully.

Laughing, he began placing light kisses across Marian's face, and Marian couldn't stop herself from kissing him back.

"The outer trappings are rather noteworthy," she admitted, between kisses.

As Robin's lips moved from her face to her throat and downward, Marian suddenly remembered the bruises and sat bolt upright, pushing him away.

"No!" she told him, though a moment ago she'd been as eager as he.

Robin leaned back on both elbows, utterly confused. "What's wrong, my love?" he asked again, so kindly Marian felt heartless.

She didn't want to lie, yet she felt it was necessary, to save him from exposing himself to another battle with Gisbourne. Especially now, with the King on his way home!

"It's my monthly cycle," she lied, knowing that would buy her several days, hopefully enough time for the bruises to fade.

"So soon?"

She nodded her head. "Uh huh."

"Are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

He was sweet, but still uncomfortable by talk of the mysteries of the female body. "I'm not delicate," she said, a smile hiding her guilty conscience. "Now, hold me and tell me more about the princess."


	66. Chapter 66

Robin did just as Marian requested, holding her in his arms as they talked late into the night.

The news of King Richard's imminent return was naturally their main topic of conversation.

"The King should knight them," Robin said, referring to his men. "God knows, they've earned it."

"That would set them up with incomes for life, and land," Marian agreed, thinking of the practical aspects, rather than the honor knighthood would bestow. "But what about Kate and Djaq? What can the King do for them?"

"Let Will take care of Djaq," Robin answered with a grin, feeling very husbandly and protective himself at the moment. "As for Kate, well, she hasn't done much to earn the King's honors, now, has she? She'll get her freedom back, and then, Lady Locksley, you and I will just have to watch over her till the three of us are old and grey."

"I knew there was a catch in being Lady of the Manor," Marian joked, lifting her face from Robin's shoulder to kiss his lips.

"Hmm, I could kiss you all night," Robin murmured, kissing her again three or four more times.

With a contented sigh, Marian rerested her head on his shoulder, snuggling close.

"The King will make everything right, won't he?" she hoped. "He has to pardon you, Robin! He must have more foresight than his sister! I know you're fond of her, but from what I heard and saw today, I wasn't impressed."

"I hope he'll pardon me. I think he will. He's not pleased that I failed to return to fight alongside him in Outremer."

"Remind him how you saved his life! Tell him how you sacrificed everything here, to protect his people!"

"I think I'll remind him how _you_ saved his life," Robin said, stroking her arm.

Marian winced with pain, for it hurt when he unknowingly touched one of her bruises.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"Are you? Let me take another look at your wound. Whatever your boast, it's not a 'cat scratch!' "

Obediantly, Robin sat up and pulled his shirt off over his head.

Examining the wound by moonlight, Marian was satisfied. It had begun to heal, and carried no trace of infection. In addition, she had effectively steered her husband's attention away from her own injuries.

Sitting back, she sighed happily again, letting her eyes drink in the sight of him.

"You're beautiful, Lord Locksley," she told him romantically.

"And you're gorgeous. Come here."

They came together and spent the next several minutes enjoying each other's kisses, longing for closer intimacy. But at last they separated, and Robin, sighing without the contentment of Marian's earlier sighs, pulled his shirt over his head and lay back down.

"Alright," he said, resuming their conversation to take his mind off how greatly he wanted her. "You said Joan didn't impress you. I can guess why, but why don't you tell me?"

"She's lovely to look at, of course," Marian answered thoughtfully. "So elegant and tawny, and regal. But she giggled like a schoolgirl, and was...well, flighty. Her conversation reminded me of soap bubbles, pretty and transparent, but light as air, popping and leaving nothing behind worth remembering."

"I always said you were astute," Robin said with an approving smile. "I think we can excuse her for giggling, though. She told me she's suffered under her husband's tyranny, and feels like a girl again, in my-in our company."

"You were right the first time, Handsome. You know she meant you."

"I told you she only likes me for what she sees on the outside, Marian. Once, in the Holy Land, she scolded me for being a bore."

Marian looked amazed and indignant, but then broke out into disbelieving laughter. "I have personally called you many unflattering names, Robin, when you've made me angry, but never once have I accused you of being a bore! What did you do to earn that?"

"Only recommended she accompany the Queen, and visit some of our wounded in the hospitals. Much and I went as often as we could, and it cheered the men. I told her how much more they'd appreciate seeing her, but she wouldn't go. It wasn't 'amusing enough,' so she said."

"I told you she was like Prince John!" Marian cried, disliking the princess even more.

"Oh, John would go," Robin said unpleasantly, "and most likely order the sick and wounded to rise from their beds to pay him homage. Thank God his time ruling over us is ending!"

"I'm thankful he won't be King," Marian breathed. "Imagine what a disaster that would be."

"He proved he's unworthy to rule, when he went to Ireland," Robin added, his brows drawn into a frown.

John's short lived fiasco as King of Ireland was a personal affront to Robin, for his father had died in battle there, fighting under the impression he was aiding the Irish, when in actuality King Henry had only called him to battle to provide his youngest and most treasured son with some land to call his own.

When Prnce John turned eighteen, his father King Henry allowed him to exercise his rule over Ireland, with disastrous results. In just a few short months, John was called back to England in disgrace. He'd squandered his allowance on clothing, wine, and whores, and alienated the Irish, openly mocking their dress, accents, and customs to their faces. Long standing enemies bonded together for the first time, united in their hatred toward their young king.

King Henry then excused "Johnny's indiscretions," especially when John claimed it was all his counsellor's fault. But of course, he'd since grown up, and his temporary rule over England had seemed as though the Devil himself had been loosed.

"No more maulings," Robin was saying, holding Marian lovingly. "No more seizing people's hard won earnings. Justice will rule over England again, my love, and the land will prosper!"

"And if, for some reason, the king fails to pardon you?" she asked, hating to dampen his spirits.

"I suppose we'll continue as we are, outlaws in the forest. Would it really be so bad, Marian? We've stood it this long."

"Much would be devastated. He's counting on living at Bonchurch, and finding that girl to end his days with."

"And what about you?"

"I can handle anything, as long as we're together," she told him.

Robin rolled on top of her, placing another heartfelt kiss on her lips. He quickly rolled off again, when she cried out in pain.

"Marian," he asked, concerned, "what's really wrong?"

Marian stared back at him, wondering what she should tell him now.

...

**(NOTE: As usual, I try to add actual historical details in my stories. Of course, the events depicted here happened so very long ago, we cannot be sure they are accurate. But the details I write about the royal family are from other written sources and are believed to be true).**


	67. Chapter 67

"It's nothing," Marian lied, flashing a smile at her husband's worried face. "You crushed me, is all."

"I didn't crush you, Marian. Why are you lying to me? What are you hiding?"

Robin looked and sounded so desperate, Marian knew a gaze and a smile would not distract him, the way they always had when deceiving Gisbourne. She decided she needed to tell him the truth, but soften it and pray he wouldn't go completely beserk.

"I'm a little sore, is all," she told him, her words spilling out so quickly they seemed to trip over one other. "I fell in the dungeon."

"You were pushed, more like," Robin said, his eyes glinting dangerously. "How badly did he hurt you?"

"I'm alright. I'm not made of glass, you know."

Her voice was angry now, on the defensive.

"What did he do to you, Marian?" Robin demanded to know, his blood pounding in his ears. "He didn't...?"

The thought was too horrible to contemplate, and Marian quickly assured him it wasn't so. "Don't be ridiculous," she said, to Robin's vast relief. "I have a bruise or two, nothing to get so upset about. They're nothing compared to your 'cat scratch.' "

At the mention of bruises, Robin's face changed, and Marian realized why she had been compelled to lie to him in the first place.

"Will you show me?"

His words may have been phrased as a question, but they came out a command. Marian was horribly reminded of the time Gisbourne demanded she show him the wound he had given the Nightwatchman.

But there was nothing for it but to comply. Believing the bruise on her upper arm was paler than the large purple one on her thigh, she pulled back her sleeve and waited for Robin's temper to explode.

"Every mark on your body, he put there!" Robin shouted, leaping to his feet and pacing. "The scar on your arm, the marks on your abdomen! Now this!"

"This will fade," Marian reminded him. "It's only a bruise!"

"Only a bruise! You think it's acceptable for him to hit you?"

"He didn't. He pushed me into the cell, and I hit the wall."

"Why are you defending him, Marian?"

"I'm not! Of course it's not alright for him to hurt me, but we're enemies! He might have done worse to me, when we were alone!"

"That's it!" Robin cried, strapping on his sword belt. "He'll never get the chance to lay another finger on you! This ends today."

"Robin, stop!"

Marian jumped to her feet and seized his bow and quiver, holding them behind her, out of his reach.

"Give me my bow," Robin commanded, fueled by irrational jealousy and fury.

"What are planning to do?" Marian asked, almost mockingly. "Kill him in his sleep?"

"I'm going to wake him up and challenge him."

"Again? How many times have the two of you done battle? I believe the last time you challenged him, he threw your body over a cliff!"

"Give me my bow. Gisbourne dies today."

"Why, Robin? The King's coming home! Are you worried he won't give Gisbourne the just death he deserves? Or are you afraid he'll cheat you out of doing it yourself? Are you a killer now?"

"When I have to be."

"Well, you don't! Not now! Not with King Richard on his way here. Robin, think! You're not being rational."

"Stop defending him, Marian! You're not going to stop me again. I should have killed him when I had the chance."

"No, you shouldn't have. You know I'm right. Robin! It's only a bruise!"

"I'm not going to tackle you for my bow, Marian. I'm no brute, unlike your beloved Guy of Gisbourne."

"Beloved?" Marian couldn't speak, she was so indignant by his word choice. Without another thought, she turned and ran toward the others in camp, still holding Robin's bow in her hands.

"John! Wake up!" she called. "Help me stop Robin!"

At that, Robin turned the opposite direction and took off running. Bow or no bow, he woulld meet Gisbourne tonight, and finally give the beast his due.


	68. Chapter 68

Robin ran through the forest like one possessed, on his way to Locksley to confront Guy of Gisbourne. He knew his men were following him, but he didn't want them anywhere near him now. He needed to think.

The last time he had run this way to challenge his enemy, he'd felt he had nothing to lose. He believed Marian dead, and had been drained dry, with nothing more to give to help his people. But that was not the case now.

Marian was alive, vibrantly so. She was his wife, and he'd never been so happy as he was now, waking up every morning with her beside him. His people depended on him to make their lives bearable. And what was more, the King was on his way home to England! What was he doing, risking everything to face his enemy?

Gisbourne needed to be stopped, ruthlessly punished, for all he'd done. The sight of Marian's luminous skin bruised and battered had temporarily stolen Robin's reason, and he still longed to kill the man who'd dared to hurt her. But not this way. Not without his bow. Not alone, when Gisbourne was surrounded by twenty-four men-at-arms. No. Robin would not commit suicide, when he had so much to live for. He stopped running, leaning over his thighs to catch his breath.

"What is your hurry, young man?"

An unexpected voice in the darkness made Robin stand upright and unsheath his sword.

"Who are you?" he asked, looking all around. "Show yourself."

A huge, black clad figure of a monk, also wielding a naked sword, stepped boldly forward.

"Shall we cross swords?" the powerfully built monk invited.

"I have no argument with you," Robin answered. "Stand aside, and let me pass."

The monk responded by raising his sword and thrusting it over Robin's head. Robin's own sword met it with a shimmering blow.

"An infidel's scimitar is no match for an English broadsword," the mysterious monk said, from under his hooded cowl. With his powerful sword arm, he threw Robin's sword aside, then continued to parry and thrust at his outlaw opponent.

"You would know that is not the case, had you spent any time in the Holy Land," Robin countered, as the fight raged on.

Their swords continued to clash, but the monk began laughing in such a strong, open, friendly manner, that Robin stopped fighting and stood still in dazed wonderment, having recognized the laughter.

"Who are you?" he asked again, not believing his own ears. "You don't know whom you're fighting. I am Robin Hood."

"Correction, Robin of Locksley," the monk responded. "_We _are Robin Hood!"

Pulling the hood back from his face, he revealed himself.

Even in night's darkness, there was no mistaking the large, golden, regal head.

"Your Majesty," Robin breathed, dropping to one knee. "Welcome home."

...

King Richard sat comfortably on a log beside his sister Princess Johanna, surrounded by celebrating outlaws, feasting in the middle of the night in their new makeshift camp.

Isabella had previously led the sheriff to the hidden camp Will had so brilliantly designed for them, and since then, the outlaws had been living in conditions similar to those they'd endured their first year in Sherwood.

But everything was about to change, with King Richard home at last.

Much, so happy he couldn't stop babbling, asked, "If I may ask, Your Majesty, why did you disguise yourself as a monk? I mean, it's your kingdom, after all! You should be able to go anywhere, wearing whatever you like! We're the outlaws, who have to hide under disguises! At least, we _were _outlaws! But now that you're back, we can be decent, respectable citizens again! Or is it respected? Robin? Master?"

The king's demeanor held no promises. Furthermore, his answer to Much's question contained bad news.

"There are three castles in my entire kingdom that refuse to welcome me, holding out instead for my brother John. No doubt it will come as no surprise to you, that Nottingham Castle is one of the three."

"But-but-but," Much floundered, "you're the king!"

"Never fear, I have a bit of experience laying siege to castles!" Richard's boast was supported by a hearty laugh. Turning serious, he continued, "But I need your help storming the castle, and removing the traitors who wish me dead."

"You can count on me, Your Majesty," Robin assured him. "Men?"

"Of course!"

"I'm in!"

"And me!"

Even Gilbert, Robin's guest, was eager to lend his support. Kate scowled and Marian took in her breath when the king insisted, "No women warriors. As we will begin our siege at first light tomorrow, I suggest you get some rest. Locksley, a word."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Seeing the shadow cross over Marian's face, the king told her, "Never fear, my lady. I will not keep your husband long, this time."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Robin and Marian exchanged loving smiles before Marian went off alone to bed.

...

She was waiting up for Robin when he joined her, nearly two hours later.

"Not long," she repeated, scornfully. "I suppose a couple of hours is nothing to a man who thinks a five year absence is a small sacrifice! What did he tell you?"

Robin took her in his arms. "Battle plans for tomorrow," he answered. "Vaisey's finally going to get his come uppance!"

Marian knew Robin included Gisbourne in his thoughts of fatal justice, and she did not blame him. She was thrilled that England's nightmare was finally ending, but she was worried, too.

This would be no regular squirmish with Sheriff Vaisey. He'd be fighting for his life. There was no telling how many mercenaries he had, holed up in the castle, ready to kill Robin and his men. Or what tricks he had planned to defend his last desperate grasp for power. She clung tighter to her husband.

"You were wrong to doubt me about Gisbourne, Robin," she said, her cheek pressed against his chest. "So wrong. I've always, always been yours."

"And I'm yours," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Marian pulled away and looked deeply into his eyes. "Then show me," she challenged.

Robin knew this might possibly be the last night he'd hold her against his heart, for he could likely die in tomorrow's siege. Marian knew it too, and their lovemaking reflected their desperate need and longing to show each other the depth of their unending love.

Robin tenderly stayed Marian from removing her own clothes, wanting to do it himself. He knelt to remove her boots, then rose and began undressing her slowly, far too slowly to her mind. She reached out her arms and began peeling his clothing from him, and soon there was nothing at all between them, just warm flesh pressing against flesh.

Each of them hungrily moved their lips over each other's bodies, finding the scars of previous battles.

"There wasn't a mark on you when the king took you from me last time," Marian whispered, her voice catching in her throat. "And now, so many scars."

"You're proud that we're fighters, remember?" Robin reminded her, making her think back to their wedding day, when she'd lain bleeding on the hot sand of Acre.

Their skins were as hot as that sand now, but they went slowly, so slowly, not wanting this moment to end.

Robin kissed her eyelids. "Open them, my love," he pleaded, his mouth against hers. "Let me see you."

She kept her eyes open, looking in wonderment over the beautiful lines of his body, the tousled hair on the top of his head, as his eager mouth moved with fierce tenderness over her body's curves. He lingered over every inch of her, exploring her as if she were new magic to him, thrilling her but heightening her urgent need to feel him inside her.

Never had he taken so long before entering her. When at last they joined together, their urgency was not just in their bodies, but in needing to be even closer. When delight and rapture tossed Marian's head from side to side, Robin captured her mouth with his own again and again, never wanting to be parted from it. As her body began to tremble in climax, he held himself back, willed it in order to see her own passion, feast on her helpless, tear-streaked joy, before finally, unable to hold back any longer, he burst inside her, crying aloud her name.

Later, with fingers entwined and his head resting against her full, firm breast, he fought back sleep, not wanting to leave her a moment sooner than he had to.

Dawn was just beginning to tinge the eastern sky, signalling morning's first light, when, dressed and girded for battle, he kissed her goodbye.


	69. Chapter 69

"Aimee, enough!"

Princess Johanna's command for her handmaiden to stop brushing her long copper colored tresses was delivered with light, bubbling laughter.

"Good morning, Lady Marian." The princess flashed a dazzling smile when a sombre faced Marian joined the women left behind by their male warrior companions. "Or, now that my brother the king has returned, should I call you Lady Locksley?"

" 'Marian' will be fine, thank you, Your Highness."

"Then you must call me Joan, at least in private. I expect us to be great friends from here on out. Come, sit beside me, so we can talk."

Marian had no desire this morning to listen to the princess's "soap bubble" conversation. Not with Robin and the others risking their lives, fighting the sheriff's huge army of mercenaries. All the same, feeling hollow and alone, she let her feet lead her to the princess's side.

"That's better!" Johanna said brightly. "My! What flawless skin! You're a great beauty, but I'm sure you already know that."

"Thank you, Your High...Joan."

"You know," Johanna added brightly, "the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced Robin should _not _be pardoned! He's far too good looking to be respectable, with more charm than the law ought to allow!"

Her joke fell over flat. Marian was in no mood to appreciate jests.

Recalling her husband telling her the princess only appreciated his "outer trappings," Marian quickly rushed to his defense by saying, "He's also bold and brave, and generous and kind! Not to mention loyal, and smart, and-"

"Please! You don't have to sell me on his many virtues," Johanna interrupted, emerald green eyes flashing with amusement. "But don't forget, he's also wickedly clever, brimming with prowess, and wildly adventurous. Forgive me, but he must be amazing in bed!"

Aimee turned her laughing face away, hiding her appreciation for her mistress's bold tongue, so like that belonging to her mother, Queen Eleanor. But Marian was shocked, indignant by what she considered the princess's bad manners.

How dare she comment on what Marian considered to be a most sacred and private act? How dare she try to cheapen it with such a comment?

Marian was no prude. In fact, she was as bold and adventurous as her husband, passionate towards him and secure in his love. But to hear another person openly jest about what transpired in private between a husband and wife was, to Marian, rude and insulting!

"There's more to my husband than you know," she managed to say, indignantly. "He gives away everything he has to the poor."

Marian's typical show of spirit was somewhat sapped from the thought of him fighting such a dangerous battle, and being unable to help him.

"Of course he does!" Johanna agreed. "Robin's always cared for the less fortunate! Do you know, when he was in the Holy Land, he used to visit the marketplace in Acre, throwing away his money on worthless trinkets he didn't want, just to put money in the hands of the poor Saracen merchants? His men used to joke that Locksley was the only soldier who would first slaughter the enemy, then pay for their burials!"

"Robin's heart is open to all peoples," Djaq mentioned, recalling watching from a distance, the young English Crusader and his faithful follower buying trinkets in Acre's marketplace, when she, as Saffia, had been visiting her uncle's friend Bassam there several years ago.

Djaq handed a stony faced Marian a cold bowl of Much's pottage, congealed and unappetizing from having been prepared several hours earlier.

Marian's nervous stomach turned over, and she pushed the bowl away, untasted.

"Oh, my!" the princess cried, smiling slyly. "Do I guess rightly that you might be suffering from a most blessed ailment?"

"Certainly not," Marian snapped tersely back. "Not that it's any concern of yours."

She hadn't meant to sound so abrupt, but her nerves were raw from lack of sleep and worry. On top of that, she couldn't help feeling sensitive about her inability to bear a child.

"I'm a mother, did you know that?" the princess confessed, her voice growing sad. "It's true. I have a young son and daughter, back in Toulouse. I hope and pray I'll see them again some day."

"Why are you not together, Your Highness?" Djaq, soon to be a mother herself, couldn't help asking.

Johanna's previous flighty mood had vanished. In truth, she was lonely and afraid, missing her children, and highly concerned for their welfare. "I had to flee," she admitted, all trace of girlishness gone. "I had to escape my husband. And there was no way I could bring them with me."

Aimee, loyally devoted to her mistress, draped a protective arm around Johanna's shoulders. "Count Raimon can be very cruel," she informed Djaq.

A flashback of kneeling at the altar beside Gisbourne made Marian shudder. All her anger toward the princess melted away, replaced by a sense of compassion, and thankfulness that she did not share a similar fate.

"I am so sorry," she said, reaching for Johanna's hand. "Forgive me, Your Highness, for judging you harshly. I would consider it an honor, if, as you suggested, we truly can become friends."

Johanna wiped a tear from her eye and quickly recovered her forced joie de vivre. "We must!" she joked, smiling once again. "After all, we share the same taste in men!"

Marian, unused to the princess's sense of humor, opened her mouth in surprise, causing Johanna to laugh again. "Never fear, dear Marian," she said. "Believe me, I've never so much as kissed your handsome husband, but not through lack of trying! He carried his love for you like a banner, the whole time he was away from you! He loves you desperately, and I must tell you, you're a very lucky woman."

"I am lucky," Marian agreed, making up her mind then and there to fight alongside Robin, King's command be damned.

With a sudden movement, she grabbed her sword and swordbelt, and began strapping them on.

"Marian," Djaq said coolly, "what are you doing?"

"I can't let him fight alone. He needs me."

Djaq laid a restraining hand on Marian's arm. "Robin is hardly alone, Marian. He has King Richard's army behind him."

"His vastly depleted army! And aren't you the least bit worried about Will?" Marian demanded to know. "Wouldn't you rather be fighting alongside him, rather than wasting your time here, with nothing to do but wait and worry?"

"Your King said no women," Djaq reminded her.

All at once, Kate appeared before them, sword on her hip. "Let's go," she barked at Marian. "We can't let Robin fight without us!"

Surprised, Marian took a deep breath. She'd forgotten about Kate, for the girl hadn't spoken all morning. Yet now, here she was, scraggly hair whipping around her scowling face, ready to take the same action Marian had been planning. It definitely cast doubt onto the wisdom of her intended deeds.

But no. Kate or no Kate, she had to trust herself. She was an able fighter, she knew, and the king needed every able bodied person to secure the castle and defeat the sheriff.

"I'm going, Djaq," she told her. "Don't try to stop me. Admit it, if you weren't expecting a child..."

"I would go with you," Djaq admitted, with a trace of a smile.

"As would I, had I ever been taught to fight," Princess Johanna spoke up. "Yet, like Djaq, I must remain behind. I haven't told anyone yet, but I, too, am again with child."

...

**(Note: Princess Johanna of England really did marry the King of Sicily, was widowed, imprisoned by Tancred, freed by her brother Richard on his way to the Holy Land, accompanied him there, refused to marry Saladin's brother al-Adil, married the abusive Raimon of Toulouse instead, bore him two children, and escaped him while pregnant with their third child. Far from Toulouse, she enterred an abbey, gave birth, named her new son Richard, and died from childbirth complications.  
>I borrowedstole the bit about Robin supporting the Saracen merchants, and the comment about him killing the enemy, then paying for their funerals, from FirespringRoses, since I thought it was brilliant and I couldn't resist it!)**


	70. Chapter 70

"Where the HELL is GISBOURNE?"

Sheriff Vaisey's worst nightmare was coming true, and Gisbourne was nowhere to be found! King Richard himself, Lionheart, stood just outside the castle walls, laying siege, trying to flush Vaisey out. And worse still, he was joined in his deadly adventure by HOOD and his scurvy little band of outlaws! How could one lone sheriff hope to defeat two living legends?

Isabella, trembling with fear, spoke for her brother. "My lord sheriff, Guy was in Locksley last night. He hasn't had time to arrive yet this morning."

"So, you expect him to come to my aid? Ride in and rescue me? A clue...NO! Like a rat deserting a sinking ship, Gisbourne is long gone!"

"A sinking ship?" Isabella breathed, in fear. "No, Sheriff! Surely you can't believe it!"

"Believe it, Madame Leper. Prince John already fled to France, the minute he received word of Richard's arrival! And your brother, YOUR BROTHER, is nowhere to be found! It looks like you and I are going to die together, unless we come up with a plan to get away!"

"You're giving up?" Isabella cried in disbelief. "You?" Sinking to the floor, she wrung her hands and cried, "Oh, Lord, we _are _doomed!"

A tremendous boulder slammed against a tower of the castle, shaking its very foundations. Isabella shrieked.

"I don't know which is worse," Vaisey grimmaced. "Being stoned to death, or listening to your infernal caterwaulings. No! NO! I can't die! I'm too young! I haven't finished yet! Where are my archers? Surely one of the blithering oafs can put in arrow in the king! Take him out, take out Hood, and the seige is finished!"

Ellingham, Captain of the sheriff's mercenaries, strode into the Great Hall and announced, "My Lord Sheriff, the vats of burning oil are ready. Give the order, and we'll commence dropping them on the king's army."

The sheriff, hope restored, began clapping his stubby fingered hands in glee. "Oh! This is good! This is good! Yes! YES! Drop them on the enemy! But be sure you don't miss! I want to see Little Robin Red Breast cooked into fried chicken! I want to see Lionheart baked into lion stew! DO IT! DO IT! Oh, yes! Yes! This is good!"

The sheriff had not pulled himself out of the gutter and risen to powerful heights, merely to roll over and give up, just because two seemingly invicible legends had attacked him. He still held the castle, and he wasn't about to give it up without a fight.

...

"Who is _that_? Damn, she's gorgeous!"

One of the king's soldiers eagerly turned his eyes the direction his friend indicated, but grimmaced in confusion when sighting a small, scraggly, sour faced blond.

"To each his own," he said, shaking his head in disappointed disgust.

"Not the blond! Take a look at _that_!"

The other soldier looked again. This time, his face lit up in a wolfish grin, as he spied a breathtakingly beautiful brown haired, blue eyed lady.

Her boy's clothes couldn't disguise her luscious curves. Over them, the face of an angel stared boldly out from beneath a head of dark, thick, gently curling hair.

Neither soldier noticed both women brandished swords.

"Look at that mouth," the first soldier said with a hot sigh. "Made to be kissed!"

"Mouth? Take a look at her ass! Plump and ripe and ready to be squeezed!"

"You take her bottom half, and I'll take the top, and then, let's switch!"

"You got yourself a deal! Hey, Captain! Locksley! Lookit over there!"

Robin, used to hearing soldiers disrespect women, was more annoyed by the soldiers' lack of focus than by their loose talk. It was far more mild than many of the things he'd heard before, for the pair consisted of two teenage youths who'd probably blush and stammer, should the lady in question so much as look their direction.

"Focus," he ordered them. "I need you to keep your eyes, and your arrows, aimed on those windows up there. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Yes, my lord."

It felt strange being called "my lord" again, but there wasn't time to think on trifles. All the same, Robin let his own gaze do a quick sweep toward what had stolen his men's attention. If there were women nearby, they must be taken to safety.

"You see her, don't you?" the first soldier couldn't help asking. "Now you know why we couldn't keep focused! If you ask me, I think she was sent by the enemy to distract us!"

"But what a way to die!" the second soldier joked. "I'd lay down and surrender right now, if she'd climb on top of me!"

"That lady is my _wife_!" Robin shouted, with so much vehemence both soldiers shuddered, and turned unblinking eyes on the windows above, determined never to look away again.

Forgetting to stay focused himself, Robin charged toward Marian, frustrated beyond belief at her presence. Before he could reach her, he collided into Kate, who ran hurtling towards him.

Kate was smiling, and pressed both hands on his face so she could kiss him. Robin tried to shake her off, but she clung to him as if she were part python.

"Marian!" Robin cried, over Kate's blond head. "What are you doing here?"


	71. Chapter 71

"This isn't a game, Marian! This is war! You can't be here!"

"Robin, I am here!"

Lifting his voice above the chaos and clamor of seige warfare, Robin tried to shout some sense into his wife's beautiful, but impossibly stubborn head.

"You need to return to the forest, now! And take her with you." Robin finally managed to pry Kate's vice like grip from around his neck, flinging the blond aside. "The minute we gain entry to the castle, all hell will break loose."

"Yes! And that's why you need me. Robin, look at these soldiers! Some are little more than boys."

"Battle virgins, the king calls them," Robin agreed, pacing like a caged tiger. "But that doesn't change the fact that you can't be here!"

"Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"Because I love you!"

He'd shouted the words so loudly every head nearby turned to stare.

"Trouble, Locksley?"

A man had joined them, a seasoned soldier, by the looks of him. Marian couldn't help feeling uncomfortable, almost queasy, just from looking at him. He was powerfully built, and ugly. His eyes were small and dark and hard, like those of a wild, vicious bore. His face was pox marked, and scarred by a battle wound that stretched from the corner of one eyelid down to his jawline.

"Nothing I can't handle by myself," Robin snapped at him. "Mercadier, meet my wife."

Marian gave a quick gasp. So, this was the infamous Mercadier, Captain of the King's mercenaries. A warrior said to rival the king himself in battle prowess. A man, unlike her most kind and loving husband, who thrived on killing his fellow man, washing himself in blood and gore.

"Get her out of here, Locksley," Mercadier ordered, "or I can't answer for what will happen."

"Are you threatening my husband?" Marian challenged.

Robin groaned, while Mercadier laughed mockingly under his breath. "I'm not talking about what I'll do to him, but to you," he leered, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

Robin was on him in an instant, pounding him with his fists in a fit of blind, jealous rage. Mercadier welcomed this chance to teach the king's favored whelp Locksley a lesson, and he fought back with all his more powerful might.

He might have killed Robin then and there, had not Much seen his beloved master attack. The cry from Much's lips drew the rest of Robin's men to his side, and it was Little John who managed to pull the bloodthirsty mercenary off his leader.

"Him, I do not like!" John announced, heaving Mercadier into a horse trough.

Suddenly, the king appeared angrily among them.

"What is the meaning of this?" he roared, his raging Angevian temper unleashed. "The enemy lies within the castle, not outside its walls! Locksley! Why is your wife here?"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Marian spoke up, and Mercadier uttered a snort, disgusted that a mere woman should speak out so boldly. "I disobeyed you. I only wanted to help my husband save England."

"Your place as a woman is NOT on a battlefield! If you do not stand aside, I swear, your husband will never be free! I will brand him an outlaw forever, and hunt him down myself! Do I make myself clear?"

Before Marian had a chance to answer, Robin's voice was heard crying out, "Get back! Get back! Get back!"

He was sworn to protect his king, but instinct made him lunge for his wife's body and tackle her aside. Clinging fast to her body upon the ground, he rolled under and over her, out of the way of burning oil raining down from the castle ramparts.

Thanks to Robin's alert attention, all escaped the sheriff's "barbecue."

"Unbelievable!" Much exploded. "What are they trying to do? Fry us?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Robin told his best friend, thankful to see him still alive. To see all his men alive. "And I doubt very much that'll be the end of it. Don't forget, the sheriff's got molten lead as well as boiling oil, stored in the castle." Realizing his wife still lay underneath him, he turned loving, concerned eyes on her and asked, "Are you alright?"

"It's only my pride that's wounded," she answered, realizing it would be impossible to lend her assistance now. "Robin," she sighed in his ear, "sometimes I hate being a woman!"

"No, you don't," he told her, his voice a soft and loving caress.

"I do! What good am I? I can't even give you a child!"

"You give me everything," he assured her, so passionately she had to believe him.

Amidst all the chaos, the king's trebuchets continued to hurl boulders at the towers of the castle, and stone by stone, it was slowly breaking apart.

But Allan a Dale was growing bored, and frustrated.

Now that Robin had helped Marian to her feet, Allan approached them to complain. "Not bein' funny," he began, "but isn't the goal of this to get inside the castle and claim it?"

"It is," Robin answered.

"Then why's the king destroying it? Seems to me, at this rate, he won't have anything left!"

"We've snuck in numerous times before," Will agreed. "Why can't we do it now?"

"We need to follow the king's orders," Robin insisted. "He knows what he's doing!"

Much, veteran of Lionheart's army, couldn't agree more.

"You could _suggest_ a way in, couldn't you?" Marian offered. "After all, who knows better than Robin Hood how to thwart the sheriff?"

A grin slowly spread across Robin's face, lighting it up. Kissing Marian enthusiastically on her cheek, he proclaimed, "You see! You have helped save England!"

"Master?" Much asked, gulping back his fear. "What are you thinking?"

Robin's smile rivalled summer sunshine. "I have a plan," he told them.


	72. Chapter 72

"Sometimes I hate being a woman."

It wasn't so much his wife's words that decided him, it was the heartrending look in her eyes.

Robin would do anything to bring their sparkle back. Besides, he reminded himself, Marian would surely be safer with him than alone, and her safety was his top priority, even if his actions meant defying his King.

"Alright," he told his men gathered around him. "Here's what we do."

Marian listened along with the other members of the gang, not guessing Robin would shortly assign her a leading role.

"John, Much," their leader commanded, "I need you to lead a group of soldiers in hammering the west gate with the king's battering ram."

"But, Robin!" Much objected. "You said yourself that battering ram was useless, and that hammering away at the gate's hinges would bring down the gate faster! I heard you tell the King yourself!"

"It would, though still not quick enough to my liking to get in!"

"Then why use the battering ram at all? I mean...I don't understand!"

"It's alright, Much! Just calm down, alright? You and John and the others won't be trying to get in, but the sheriff's mercenaries won't know that, will they?"

"I still don't understand! This is terrible! Horrible! What do I do again, Master?"

"Just follow John's lead, Much. Just do what John tells you, and you'll be fine. You're going to draw the sheriff's men away from here, by slamming the other gate. Now, do you understand?"

Much tried to look brave. "Of course! I knew that! And what a welcome we'll receive, when we finally force that gate open!"

"Don't worry, Much! If I thought that battering ram would work, I'd have used it long before now."

"Easy for you to say! You're not the one about to come face to face the sheriff's army! Or, are you? Are you, Robin? Oh, no! I knew it!"

Robin shook his head and moved on. "Will, Allan, I need you to create a disturbance, right here where the sheriff's sentries can see you."

"Disturbance?" Allan asked. "What sort of disturbance?"

"A big one," Robin answered. "You're clever! I'm counting on you to think of something."

"Oi, Will," Allan suggested, "we could moon 'em."

"No! No mooning! It has to be something better than that," Robin ordered, the expression on his face uncomfortable. "My life's depending on it, and Marian's."

"Mine?" Marian asked, confused. "What have I to do with your plan?"

Robin smiled adoringly at her. "You, my love," he said, "are coming with me! I hope you're still good at climbing."

"Climbing? I love climbing!"

Her face shone with joy so brightly, Robin was pleased he'd included her. "There," he said. "You see, Much? Marian loves to climb!"

"Yes, well, that's only because she hasn't any more sense than you have!"

Robin laughed fondly at Much.

"What about me?" Kate demanded to know. "What do I do, Robin?"

Robin had not meant to include Kate. Thinking quickly, he pulled out a few coins and placed them in her hand. "Go the the Trip and treat yourself to an ale. You've earned it," he said, finding that would be the best way to keep her far from the seige.

Kate placed a noisy kiss on his cheek, much to Robin's chagrin. "I'll see you boys later!" she called back over her shoulder, as she hurried toward the Trip.

"Robin," Will said thoughtfully, once Kate had gone, "a fight's good. Allan and I could stage a fight. That would draw the sentries' attention."

"Good," Robin agreed. "Alright. Will, tell the king to have his troops ready to charge through this gate, as soon as Marian and I open the doors and raise the portcullis. Alright? Let's go!"


	73. Chapter 73

Marian's heart was pounding as she and Robin made their way furtively through the castle.

This was no silent journey, for the sounds within were deafening. Every few moments, the king's trebuchet hurled boulders against the towers, and the battering ram hammering the west gate was like a loud, steady drumbeat in her ears. Soldiers and mercenaries rushed about, shouting orders interspersed with oaths and curses.

Sheriff Vaisey was nowhere to be found. Marian guessed he must be in his room, hiding with his birds. And as for Gisbourne...? Marian couldn't help but wonder where he was lurking. She would have expected him to be in the forefront, shouting orders.

Marian marvelled how silent and cat-quick Robin could be, darting in and out of alcoves, escaping the notice of all who passed closeby. She didn't know how to express to him her gladness that he'd included her, not that there was any time to do so. Right now, all that mattered was for them to make it to the east gate and raise the portcullis.

Rounding a bend through a narrow, secluded passageway, they suddenly found themselves face to face with Isabella of Gisbourne.

"Robin!" Isabella cried. "Thank God! You've got to save me!"

"Save _you_?" Marian couldn't believe the woman's gall.

"I'm so frightened!" Isabella cried, ignoring Marian while keeping her damsel in distress gaze fully focused upon her onetime lover.

"You should be," Marian told her, gloating. "The king's army's just outside, and when we let them in, you had better find a good hiding place!"

"Get me out of here, I beg you!" Isabella cried, squeezing tears from her eyes, just enough to be convincing, without ruining her lovely appearance. "These mercenaries are brutes! Just look what one did to me! He tore my gown, trying to rip it off me!" Her gown wasn't torn, but she hoped the suggestion would be enough to stir Robin's feelings of chivalry.

"Get out of our way!" Marian shouted, hating the woman. "We don't have time for this!"

"Come with us," Robin ordered, making Marian stop in her tracks, unable to believe her ears.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Isabella cried. Grabbing his hand, she began showering it with grateful kisses.

"Robin, what are you doing?" Marian was so angry she could barely get out the words.

"She can't stay here, Marian! You have no idea what might happen to her during a battle. Or, for that matter, to you! As soon as we open the gate, I need you to take her to safety."

"I can't believe you still want to help her, after everything!"

Ignoring the angry tears of frustration welling up in Marian's eyes, Robin urgently continued issuing commands. "Do not let her out of your sight, Marian. Once the two of you are safely away, I need you to hold her hostage."

Marian gave a small gasp, pleased at last by his words. Isabella was less happy.

"What do you mean, 'hostage?' " she coldly asked.

Robin looked her full in the face. "Once the battle is over, you will answer to the King for your crimes, Isabella."

"What crimes have I committed?" she cried, playing the role of helpless damsel again. "I've only done what I had to, to survive! Every man I've ever cared for, and trusted, has turned against me! Every one of them betrayed me! I once believed you'd be different, Robin. But you're just like all the rest."

"Spare us your theatrics," Marian ordered, gripping her by her wrist. "Let's go!"

Isabella still believed her best chance to get away would be to go with them. Once she was outside the castle, she felt sure she'd find a way to escape.

...

And escape she did, for the chaos that surrounded them, as soon as they opened the castle gate, was so overwhelming, Marian felt she'd been plunged into Hell.

King Richard himself led the charge, and Marian watched in horror as he swooped down upon the enemy, ruthlessly killing men left and right, as though he enjoyed it. Marian held her breath as one of the sheriff's mercenaries raised his sword over the king's head, but Richard performed the classic "Cut of Wrath," striking a powerful, downward diagonal blow that severed the man's arm at the elbow. Without even pausing for breath, he whirled to take on each new opponent, cutting them down one by one as he forced his way into the castle.

Marian felt frozen in time as she watched her husband battle, for she'd never seen this side of him before. He, too, was killing, his eyes hard and determined, his movements skilled and graceful as a dancer's, cutting through men as if they were butter.

Much was in trouble, his swordblade broken. The sight of him, helpless, thawed the ice in Marian's legs, and without thinking, she rushed to his defense. When Robin saw her running headlong into battle, he leaped over several opponents to reach her, grabbed the sword out of her hand, and threw it to a grateful Much.

"Go, Marian!" he ordered her. "You can't be here!"

"Robin, look out!"

He ducked, shielding her with his body, escaping the blow that would have come crashing down on his head.

"You've got to get out of here," Robin told her. "I can't fight, knowing you're in danger!"

"What about your danger?"

"Just go, Marian!"

Another blow that just missed slicing off Robin's ear convinced her.

She turned and fled toward the castle gate, stumbling over bloody bodies as she went, feeling nothing but a sense of emptiness, fear, and doom.

...

**(Note: I wanted to write this story when I learned that King Richard truly did have to lay siege to Nottingham Castle, and two others, when he returned to England. Even more interesting, he was assisted in the battle by the Earl of Huntington! After the castle was secured, he spent a week or so in Sherwood Forest, before moving on to other shires. Makes you kind of wonder whether he truly did visit there with a certain outlaw hero!) **


	74. Chapter 74

Numb from the horrific battle sights she had witnessed, and worn down with worry for her husband and friends' safety, Marian somehow made her way back toward the outlaw camp. But first, she stopped just outside Locksley, to visit Bat in the orphanage.

As soon as she arrived, she wondered at the stillness. The orphanage was usually a vibrant place, filled with children's voices, and singing nuns.

But not today. There wasn't a sound to be heard, and Marian pushed open the door to find the simple wooden building deserted.

"Where is everyone?" she wondered out loud, then was surprised to find she wasn't quite alone.

Little John's friend Walt, the chubby cheeked, red headed boy who'd once worked for Bertha of Bath, had seen Marian enter, and solemnly greeted her.

"We're all out back, in the graveyard," he explained, his face filled with woe. "We just buried Bat."

Marian couldn't believe her ears. Had he truly said, "Buried Bat?" But that meant...no.

"No," she said, refusing to accept his words. "I've just come to see him."

"You can't. We just buried him under the ground," Walt explained, sympathetically. "He died a few hours ago."

Marian found it hard to breathe. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she brushed them angrily aside. "Where is Sister Margery?" she asked, not wanting to believe the boy's terrible news.

"I told you, in the graveyard. Should I take you there?"

Marian heaved a heavy sigh of despair. "Yes, please," she uttered, her voice so weak Walt could barely hear her.

...

Sister Margery's words of comfort, that Bat was now "in a better place, free at last from all his earthly struggles," did little to ease the sorrow in Marian's heart.

The poor child! she kept thinking, stumbling onward toward her forest home. What a tragically sad life he had lived! How could he die so young? Marian felt sure she had somehow failed him.

She wanted Robin. She needed him. He would mourn with her, yet be strong, and hold her up, and speak the right words to soften the blow, just as he'd poured his own strength into her when her beloved father had died.

But Robin was facing his own battle now, literally. He was fighting for the king in a gruesome battle of clashing swords and spears and bloodshed. If he should die...!

Marian caught her breath when a tall, black clad figure stepped from the forest shadows, onto her path.

It was Guy of Gisbourne, alone, afraid, and fully armed.

"Guy!" Marian cried out aloud, as if in a dream.

"Marian!"

Gisbourne grabbed her upper arms and pulled her unwilling body to him, crushing her against his chest.

"It's not too late for us!" he cried. "Come with me! We can start a new life together, in France!"

Marian froze in his arms, knowing this encounter was real, yet not feeling its reality. "I'm married, Guy," she reminded him, simply. "I'm married to Robin. I _love _Robin."

"No," he said, his eyes growing dark with anger. "You can't. It's me you love! It's always been me! Come away with me, and we can start anew! I don't care if you're barren. I want you, Marian! You have no idea how I burn for you!"

She somehow couldn't shake the feeling of unreality.

Even so, she knew she needed to bridle her tongue with him. She was, after all, unarmed, and she had no desire to feel his sword plunge into her body a second time.

"The battle at the castle," she said, her words tumbling over one another, almost incoherently. "Why aren't you there, fighting for the sheriff? I thought you...you always did everything for him."

"He's finished, now that the king has returned," Gisbourne admitted. "Marian, surely you didn't think I followed the sheriff because I believed in him? I followed him because he was my pathway to power."

"So you've deserted him at last, because he can't do anything now to advance your career? You're lower than I thought."

"I'm a realist, not an idealistic fool, like your Hood. Marian, come away with me! There's always been something between us, try as you might to deny it. You're stirred by me, admit it. You burn for me, just as I burn for you."

"Your son is dead," she blurted out, no longer bothering to stop the flow of her tears. "Your sweet, precious, mute little boy is dead, and you don't even care. Get your hands off me, Guy of Gisbourne. I'm not stirred by you. I'm repulsed."

"Robin Hood is dead!" Gisbourne cried out, shaking her violently. "Since you care so much to proclaim who is dead and who is alive, know this! Hood died in battle, not thirty minutes ago! You're a widow, if you were indeed ever truly married. You've got nothing, Marian, for the king won't give you Locksley, or any of Hood's other holdings. He'll seize them for the crown, and you'll be a pauper, damaged goods. Barren, so no man will want you. But I'm willing to have you, Marian, because I must! I've never wanted a woman the way I've wanted you, the way I still want you! Come with me! I won't ask you again!"

Marian stared bleakly at him, her heart in her throat. She'd heard nothing past his words, "Hood died in battle."


	75. Chapter 75

"Damn, Woman! Why must you always be so willful?"

Guy of Gisbourne was gripping Marian's left wrist so hard, she feared he might snap it in two.

"I've stood enough of your defiance!" he roared. "You're coming with me!"

Without pausing for breath, Marian drew back her right elbow to throw a forceful punch into Gisbourne's face. The man released his grip on her, staggered backward, then fell to the ground, knocked unconscious.

"No, I'm not," Marian told him, proudly.

He'd been lying about Robin, Marian felt sure, once she'd recovered from her initial shock. Robin had, after all, cheated Death so many times before. Why should he die now, just when England was about to be saved? He couldn't! Her heart told her he still lived. God, after all, was not cruel, but loving and kind. Making a quick sign of the cross, Marian knelt to pray.

She prayed for Robin, the gang, and the king. She also prayed for Bat, thanking God for having blessed her by knowing him. Although her heart still grieved, a sense of peace enveloped her, so much so that she forgot about Gisbourne, until she raised her face and saw him sprawled upon the ground, not two feet away from her.

"I've got to tie him up," she realized. "Isabella may have escaped, but you're not going to."

Quick as a flash of lightening, Marian sprang to her feet and sprinted toward camp, to gather rope to bind Gisbourne.

...

"Marian! Any news of Robin and Will?"

Djaq's large, liquid dark eyes searched Marian's face, for she too had been praying for her own husband, and for the other men she'd grown to love like a sister.

"There isn't time to talk!" Marian told her. "I've captured Gisbourne, and I need to tie him up before he regains his senses!"

"Gisbourne!"

Without another word, Djaq located a heavy coil of rope, and handed it to Marian. "I will come with you," she said, arming herself with her sword.

The sight of the heavily pregnant woman trying to strap her swordbelt around her thickening waistline was oddly touching.

"Can you just carry it with you?" Marian asked, feeling a close bond with the woman who had twice saved her life, knowing the Saracen was willing to risk her own life to do so again, if necessary.

"I would like to come see the man who dared try to kill my brother," Princess Johanna said. "Just let me don my cloak. Aimee, where have you put it?"

"We don't have time for this, Your Highness," Marian fumed. "I'm sorry, but goodbye."

So saying, she took off running, outpacing Djaq who struggled to keep up behind her.

...

"He's gone," Marian said, realizing in despair that they'd returned too late.

"Are you sure this was the place?" Djaq asked.

"Yes!"

Instantly, Marian regretted the impatience in her voice. "I'm sorry, Djaq," she said. "It's just...I wanted to do _something_ for England."

"You have done more than your share," her friend assured her. "Now, is there time to tell me about Will?"

The two lovely women walked side by side back toward camp, cautiously looking over their shoulders, in case Guy of Gisbourne might be lurking nearby, following their movements with his cold, steely blue eyes.

"They've broken into the castle, and are fighting," Marian told her. "It won't be long, I think, until they secure it. The king fights like no one you could ever imagine."

"That is good news. Yet you are sad."

"Gisbourne told me Robin is dead."

"No!"

"I don't believe him, but...And Djaq, I just learned that Bat has died."

"Oh, Marian! I am so sorry!"

Both women remained quiet for the remainder of the walk, respecting one another's grief and worry. But once they'd returned to camp, the stillness was interrupted by Johanna wanting to talk.

"He got away?" she asked. "Well, you mustn't mind, too much! My brother will hunt him down, and then, Sir Guy of Gisbourne had better say his prayers! Come, sit by me! Let me tell you all about your new queen, Berengaria!"

Marian decided it would be better to listen than to sit and stew helplessly over thoughts of a battle she could play no part in. It would help to take her mind off the images of Robin fighting for his life, surrounded by bloodthirsty mercenaries.

"What is she like?" she asked, her voice flat.

"Garia? Oh, she'll make a wonderful queen! As different from my mother as night and day, but still, you will like her! She's not lacking for courage, though you wouldn't know it to look at her. Robin thinks highly of her, which ought to commend her to you."

"Is she pretty?"

Marian couldn't believe her own, foolish question. Why should it matter how the Queen looked? The thought hadn't even crosssed her mind, until Johanna had mentioned Robin.

Johanna smiled knowingly. "She's not plain, though not nearly as lovely as I am. Nor as you, my dear! And she's highly virtuous! She would have made an excellent nun, if Fate had decreed it. So you needn't worry about your handsome husband!"

Marian almost hated the princess at that moment. She _was _worried about her husband, but for his _life._ How could Johanna sit complacently by, throwing out innuendos, while their brave men fought a bloody battle?

But Johanna didn't seem to notice Marian nor Djaq's consternation, as she continued her idle chatter.

"I must tell you a story regarding your Robin, just before my brother was married! We were in Sicily, after my rescue, but waiting for the seas to calm before we could set sail for the Holy Land, and my mother, bless her, had brought Berengaria secretly to Richard from Navarre, crossing the Alps in the dead of winter! Can you imagine? A woman of my mother's advanced age, crossing the Alps?"

Marian and Djaq had to smile at that. Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine was certainly a remarkable woman.

"But why was their journey a secret?" Djaq asked.

"If you had been raised in this country, you would not need to ask!" Johanna laughed, not unkindly. "Tell her, Lady Marian."

"Was it because King Richard was already betrothed to the French King's sister, and he didn't want to anger him by taking a different bride?"

"That is correct. But, of course, my brother couldn't marry Alys Capet, not after he learned she'd been warming our late father's bed!"

Marian blushed. She couldn't get used to how casually the royal family discussed bedmates. To her, and to Djaq, it was a disgrace that the late king had taken his own son's betrothed! She was more than pleased to learn that King Richard had married a virtuous princess.

"But onto my story!" Johanna continued, while Aimee brushed her mistress's long, redgold hair. "One evening Richard and two of his most trusted companions surprised us, by coming to dine with us. Of course, Robin was one of the two, along with the Earl of Leicester. I enjoyed flirting with the two gallant earls before dinner, while Richard went off alone to seek a word with his betrothed. In no time at all, he stormed back to us, commanding his men to accompany him back to their lodgings.

"All three of us guessed at once what had happened, and you should have seen Robin's face! So innocent and unknowing, until he met my eyes, and then, what a glance we exchanged! Neither one of us could believe that tiny, meek and mild Princess Berengaria, had refused the mighty Lionheart!"

"Refused?" Marian asked, feeling a twinge of jealousy at the mention of intimate, exchanged glances between Robin and the beautiful Johanna. "I don't understand."

"Either you are as naive as Garia, or you're head is distracted," Johanna affectionately scolded. "In either case, I forgive you. But surely you can understand that Richard, like any man, was eager to plant his flag and stake his claim, before the actual wedding could take place!"

"I think that was between the king and his bride," Marian said, uncomfortably. "I hope Your Highness will excuse me. I have a bit of a headache."

"Of course! What a pity Count Friedrick cannot be here, to gently massage your temples!"

The princess shared a laugh with her handmaiden, making Marian feel unworldly and alone.

But she preferred loneliness to the insulting gossip of Princess Johanna of England. Without another word, she turned and walked away, wondering how much longer she could take before finding a horse and riding to Nottingham.


	76. Chapter 76

The nightmare of battle was all over, and they had won.

Robin took a quick head count, relieved beyond measure that all his men were alive and unharmed.

Only Allan seemed in tune with the celebratory, euphoric mood among King Richard's soldiers, and even his outlook was only half hearted, surrounded as they found themselves, knee deep in bodies and bloody gore.

"We did what we had to, Master," Much quietly comforted his friend. "And now, just think! Robin! We can all go home!"

As the truth slowly began to take hold, Robin reached for Much and threw an arm around his shoulder, then clasped him in a brotherly, jubilant embrace.

Almost tossing him aside, he looked up, asking suddenly, "But where's Vaisey? And Gisbourne?"

"I don't know!" Much answered, his eyes widening in alarm. "I haven't seen either one of them! Master, where are you going?"

Dashing up the castle stairs, Robin barely paused to throw back a reply over his shoulder. "Justice won't be served until those two monsters are made to pay for their crimes!"

Much hesitated, gulped, then made up his mind. "Master, wait for me!" he unhappily called, resolved to loyally follow Robin until the end of his days, which he fervently hoped would not happen anytime soon. Though with the sheriff and Gisbourne still on the lose, and Robin rushing to find them, he had his misgivings.

...

Sheriff Vaisey, freshly shaven and disguised in the gown and bonnet of a buxom serving wench, stuffed as much silver and as many valuables as he possibly could into his bodice. If he could only sneak undetected down the steps, he could find his way to the tunnels under the castle, and make his escape.

So far, no one he encountered had given him a second glance, so wildly exuberant were the king's soldiers over their victory. And as for the King himself, he was too busy organizing burials, seeing that the wounded were tended, and making note of the structural damage done to the castle to notice an unattractive serving wench hiding beneath "her" bonnet, slipping by.

But Vaisey's luck was just about to change.

"Hello, Sheriff," came the smooth, smug, golden toned voice of his enemy.

"Oh, no," the sheriff whined. "Not you, Hood!"

"Oh, yes. And it's Locksley, now," Robin told him. "Again."

Vaisey held completely still, calculating his next move, while Robin swaggered nearer. "I've got to tell you, Vaisey," the handsome outlaw smugly commented, "I never expected to see _you_ dressed as a 'leper.' What do you think, Much? How do you like the sheriff's new look?"

Much was grinning, finding it hilarious to have caught the sheriff in a dress. "Look at him!" he gloated. "Even uglier than Kate!"

"Yes...well," the sheriff said, grimmacing. "You've had your little fun. Let me go, Locksley, and I'll make a deal with you."

"A deal?" Turning vicious, Robin snarled, "I don't deal with traitors, Vaisey."

Much unsheathed his bloodied sword, preparing himself to attack.

The sheriff gulped, nervously. "Come now, Robin, my friend, why so nasty, hmm? I'll pay you anything you want, anything at all, if you just shut your pretty baby blues and pretend you never saw me, hmm?"

"Anything I want?" Robin asked, pretending to play along.

Innocent Much, taken in by his master's act, couldn't believe his ears. "Master?" he gasped. "You're not giving in to him, are you? Surely not! To _him_? Robin!"

"You've got yourself a deal, Vaisey," Robin agreed, his smile so cocky, Vaisey wanted to both slap and kiss it right off his face.

"Unbelievable!" Much was shouting. "Robin! What are you...? You can't let him go!"

"I'm not!" Robin told his friend, causing Vaisey a moment of alarm. "I'm just going to shut my eyes, and the sheriff here is going to give me what I want."

"But but but-" Much stammered.

Robin blinked. "There," he said. "I've shut them, and now they're open again. And all you have to give me, Vaisey, is yourself, and Gisbourne."

"Myself?" The sheriff was so excited, he'd missed the end of Robin's demand. "Ooooh! This is good! This is good! After all this time! What changed your mind, Hood, hmm? Was it the dress? Or my freshly shaven cheek?"

To the sheriff's distress, Robin whipped out his Irish knife and pressed it against Vaisey's throat. "Let's just say it was your loveable personality and all your acts of kindness. A clue...no."

"Come now, Robin," Vaisey nervously coaxed. "We all know you're not the killing kind."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to escort you to the king. Let's see what he has in mind for you, shall we? And on the way, you can tell me where I can find Gisbourne."


	77. Chapter 77

"Robin!"

Marian sought frantically for her husband amid the chaotic aftermath of battle, stepping over bodies and body parts, pushing her way past streaming soldiers who were working now to clean up the mess. Fear gripped her, for she couldn't find Robin nor any of his men.

"Excuse me, please," she desperately asked soldier after soldier. "Have you seen my husband, Robin Hood?"

No one had. A few pointed various directions, leads she followed that came up empty.

She searched on, growing more and more anxious. Birds circling slowly overhead, waiting to feast on the eyes of the dead, blocked out the sun, so thick were their numbers. After an hour, Marian stopped only looking for Robin among the living, and began searching for him among the dead.

"I thought I told your husband to get you out of here." The rough voice barked at her through all the chaotic shouting and jubilant celebration surrounding the gruesome scene.

Marian could smell his stench behind her, and she wheeled around to face the hideous, leering face of Mercadier.

"My husband!" she cried. "Do you know where he is?"

"I might. But I always get paid for my services. And the spoils of war just got a hellova lot better looking."

"Where's Robin? Tell me where he is!"

"Marian?"

The tears she hadn't been able to shed were unloosed now, as she turned to see Robin standing just a few feet away. With a little joyful cry, she flung herself against him, weeping and smiling while clinging to him, her world restored.

"Where were you? I thought you were dead!"

"Now, why would you think that? I'm not that easy to get rid of, you know!"

He led her away to a place where they could enjoy relative privacy, and stood gazing lovingly down at her, his arms around her waist.

All at once, she noticed he was splattered with crimson. "None of that's yours, I trust," she said, trying to sound brave.

"Oh! I'm sorry, my love! I forgot about the-"

"No, don't let me go. Robin, Gisbourne told me you were dead!"

"Gisbourne? Where is he?"

"He's not here! I saw him in the forest. He wanted me to go with him, to France."

"He didn't hurt you? Where is he now?"

"I'm fine. I punched him, but-"

"Good work!"

"-but when I went to fetch some rope to tie him up, he escaped. He's long gone, I'm afraid."

"I'll find him. Marian, the king's locked Vaisey in the dungeon! He's been tried, and condemned, and-"

"Robin, Bat's dead!"

Their words, that had been flowing so rapidly over one another's, stopped now, as Robin shared his wife's grief. He held her tightly in his arms, realizing he'd known all along the child would die, just not wanting to face the fact.

After a time, they found themselves sitting side by side on a hard, wooden bench, putting aside the past to speak of the future.

"The king says I can move back home to Locksley tonight, but he wants you to stay here."

"What? No! That's ridiculous! Why can't I come with you?"

Robin pressed a kiss on one of her hands. "Because, my love, nobody in Locksley believes we're truly married, and they won't believe it, till they see us kneeling side by side at the altar. So, do I need to get down on one knee again, or will you agree to take me like this? It's been a long, hard day, remember."

"A wedding? I don't need one, Robin, really. I know I always told you I wanted one, but so much as happened since then! I just want to go home with you."

"I want that, too, but let's do it anyway, for the people. And I think, once everything calms down, you'll be glad you got your flowers, and your veil, and your fancy gown, and whatever else you want to cook up. I promise, I'll even wear blue, like you asked."

Marian's face lit up in a smile. "You remember that? After all these years!"

"You'd be surprised what I remember."

"You're full of surprises. Robin, does any of this feel real to you?"

"Not yet! But it will I think, once you're officially Lady Locksley."

"Lady Locksley, I can handle. It's being the Countess of Huntington, I don't feel prepared for. Robin, I don't want to embarrass you, when we go to Court! I'm not like those other ladies."

"Embarass me? What do you mean, Marian? What other ladies?"

"Ladies like the princess. You know, women of the world. I don't speak their language; I'm not-"

"Thank God you don't! Trust me, you'll outshine them all! You, my love, are so far above them, they can't even reach the hem of your skirt!"

"Really?"

"Really."

They kissed, and then Marian teased, "I'm wearing trousers, in case you haven't noticed."

"I've noticed. I like the way they cling."

"Grow up!"

They enjoyed another kiss, and then Robin, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, ventured, "It's going to be a long week, sleeping alone. I could sneak into the castle, if you'd like, like I used to."

"So you can plant your flag and stake your claim?"

"What?" Robin began to laugh. "You surprise me, Marian!"

"Just an expression I learned from Her Royal Highness."

"Well. I'm sure it sounds a lot more tempting, coming from your lips. But, yes. I'd like to do some planting."

"After you get yourself cleaned up, of course."

"Of course. Now, I'm afraid I've been idle too long! There's work to do, and I need to take you to the king, so we can get you settled."

"Settled? While you work? You don't remember so very much, after all, do you, Robin of Locksley?"

They enjoyed one final kiss, their heads spinning with dreams, before running, hand in hand, to find King Richard.


	78. Chapter 78

Just like Robin, King Richard was a man of inexhaustable energy. After staging a predawn surprise attack, laying siege and winning the castle, working to begin the massive effort of restoring order, he was now hosting a victory banquet in Nottingham Castle's Great Hall, complete with minstrels, jugglers, and acrobats.

Marian, fresh from a rose petal scented bath, was trying to decide what gown to wear.

She was lodged in the same tower chambers she'd resided in as Sheriff Vaisey's prisoner, and was surprised to find all her clothing still here. The only gown missing was her very favorite, the moss green gown with the cut out shoulders she'd been wearing when the sheriff had forced her to accompany him to the Holy Land. And since she'd been forced to wear it for so long, under such trying circumstances, she was glad it would be impossible to ever wear it again.

Besides, a banquet hosted by His Majesty required something much finer. She reached for her very finest silk gown, the elegant green and gold one she had worn when she and Robin had discovered the Sheriff's Pact.

She smiled. She loved the gown, and thought it more than appropriate to dress in the Huntington colors of green and gold. But then, another gown caught her eye.

She'd only worn it once, when she and Count Friedrick were helping Robin steal the sheriff's money, but she liked it very much. Not the scarlet gown, though she would love to see Robin's face if he ever saw her in that, but the black one. She still remembered how pleased she'd been to hear Robin's "Look at you!" when he'd seen her wearing it.

That pleasant memory decided her. Smiling with excitement to be attending a royal banquet, Marian attired herself entirely in elegant black.

...

Princess Johanna, also freshly bathed, was dressed in emerald green, a color she knew suited her perfectly.

She suffered from no delusions that Robin of Locksley would ever be hers, but all the same, she wanted to look beautiful for him, and perhaps make him regret he'd turned her down when she'd thrown aside her dignity and begged him to take her, on the eve of her departure to marry King William of Sicily.

Of course, he would be late! It was an annoying habit of his, but everyone always seemed unable to resist forgiving him whenever he finally made his appearance.

Hiding a spark of amusement, Johanna noticed his men milling about the Great Hall. She'd grown rather fond of the scruffy lot, for beneath their unkempt appearances, they boasted brave, true hearts of gold.

There was Much, nervous and excited at being named Lord Bonchurch, stuffing his face with delicacies from serving platters circulating about the hall. And the huge, hairy giant, standing near the doorway with his staff still in his hands. Did he take his place there to stand guard, or to run away, should some brave lady want him to partner her in a dance? Johanna sighed with a hint of longing to see the obvious affection and regard between the quiet young carpenter and his lovely, dusky skinned, and very pregnant wife. And of course, hidden in a corner, stood that adorable rake, Allan a Dale, captivating Aimee with his lies, and now and again, making her scream with laughter.

Surprising the princess so that she gasped, Robin himself seemed to appear out of thin air at her elbow.

"Good evening," he said. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Of course you did," she responded, her heart pounding at the sight of him, bathed and trimmed and dressed in finery befitting his station. "You've always delighted in sneaking up on poor, defenseless women. My, don't you look every inch the earl!"

He rubbed his hand up and down the back of his head. "A barber cut my hair. I hope my wife won't be disappointed."

"Impossible! You look charming."

"And you look...as beautiful as ever."

Johanna, experienced as she had grown in the ways of love, felt herself blush like a school girl. She felt utterly helpless under the gaze from that pair of blue eyes. Reminding herself that he was unattainable, she recovered her composure.

"I hear congratulations are in order. There's going to be a wedding in a week."

"That's right. My _wife _and I are getting married." He chuckled. "Seems kind of unnecessary, but it'll provide a good excuse to throw a huge party in Locklsey. You're invited, by the way."

"What happened to your famous gallantry? Ask me again, properly."

Robin grinned, took her hand lightly in his, brushing the top of it with a kiss. "Your Highness, I would consider it an honor unspeakable, if you would grace my humble village with your glorious presence, to witness the exchange of vows between my wife and myself, in this, our third wedding ceremony. Pray, say you'll come."

"I'll be there, you rogue! But 'third?' What's the matter? You've waited so long, you can't resist saying the words to each other over and over?"

"Something like that."

Johanna shook her head and sighed. "I have something for you, I think you'll like. Call it a wedding present, for after helping pay my brother's ransom, I can't afford to give you anything else. We're all as poor as churchmice, I'm afraid."

"Joan, you don't have to," Robin told her, sincerely.

"I want to, and anyway, it's not from me. Here," she said, handing him something wrapped in a silken handkerchief.

With utmost satisfaction, she watched his face light up with joy and amazement. "Where did you get this?" he asked, holding the emerald engagement ring he'd given Marian, when they were trapped at the top of a tree.

"Count Friedrick purchased it back from his king, after your wife sent it as part of the ransom. He wanted 'Sweet Marian' to have it back, and entrusted me to deliver it to you. Now, you can surprise her at the wedding."

"Thank you!"

"You had better take care to hide it. I believe your lovely bride-to-be has just entered the hall."

Robin followed Johanna's gaze to see Marian standing at the top of the staircase, and caught his breath.

Johanna sighed once again. There was absolutely no denying it. Robin of Locksley was thoroughly, utterly, wildly, in love with his wife.


	79. Chapter 79

"Excuse me."

Princess Johanna watched, disappointed, as a lovestruck Robin of Locksley abruptly left her side to make his way toward his wife, who had only just arrived at the king's banquet. He joined Marian at the bottom of the staircase, for she had seen him approaching, and had almost flown down the steps to meet him, on feet made light by love.

Kissing was out of the question, though both wanted nothing so much. Instead, they stood smiling at each other, drinking in the sight of one another dressed so exquisitely.

"You cut your hair!" Marian finally managed to say.

"Do you mind?"

"How could I? You look very handsome. I was only thinking...now, what will I pull when you get overly cheeky? Don't answer that!"

Robin chuckled wickedly, for Marian hadn't meant to walk right into that naughty implication. "We have definitely been living with Allan too long," he joked. "Do you hear that music? If I recall correctly, you never passed up a chance to dance a galliard."

"No, that was your favorite, since it's so athletic. But if you're asking me to dance, the answer is yes."

Despite being rusty from lack of practice, they danced so well together, and were such a lovely couple, they drew the eyes and approval of all present.

As the evening progressed, Marian counted it as one of the happiest of her lifetime. The food and wine were outstanding, the music lovely, and best of all, Robin was dancing with her, his lands and titles restored to him. And within a week, they would be wedded, again!, and would begin their life together as Lord and Lady Locksley. All her dreams were finally coming true.

Well, nearly all her dreams. She'd been told she'd never be a mother, and that thought stung. But she refused to let it bother her tonight, with so many other wonderful things to be thankful for.

While dancing another round together, Marian asked, "What will happen to them, Robin?"

"My men, you mean?"

"Yes. I know you've given Much Bonchurch, for he can't stop talking about it. But what of Will and Djaq, and John, and Allan? What will they do? Where will they live?"

"It's just like you, being concerned for others. But you needn't worry, my love. The King told me he means to be 'bountiful' tonight! I'm sure he means to knight them."

"Robin! That's wonderful!"

"If that fool minstrel doesn't stop oogling you like that, he'll be wearing his lute around his ears."

"Sneak into my room later, and I'll show you how little I care for minstrels."

Robin grinned adoringly down at her. "Now, that sounds like a plan," he said.

...

Several hours later, Marian's room in the castle tower was not the love nest she had envisioned, but a place for Robin to pace away his pent up anger.

Marian, clothed in her sleeveless white nightdress, sat on her bed, her beautiful hair flowing freely, waiting while he fumed and vented his anger.

"How can he?" Robin wondered out loud. "What was he thinking?"

"I don't know, but you worrying over it won't change anything."

"I'm not worrying! I'm steaming! How could he do it? Is that what he meant by being 'bountiful?' "

Marian didn't answer. She knew Robin still regarded King Richard through hero worshipping eyes as a fearless, golden warrior, larger than life, who, despite failing to free Jerusalem, would lead England to an unprecedented age of justice, tranquility, righteousness, and prosperity for all. And when he erred, and proved himself to be but a man after all, Robin took it hard.

Tonight, at the banquet, the king had erred.

Instead of knighting Robin's men, as Robin believed they deserved, the king had lifted up a toast. "To my little brother John," he had proclaimed. "Just as I've pardoned the outlaws dining with us tonight, let it be known I hereby grant a full pardon to my brother, now in hiding at the Court of my rival king, Philip of France. Join me in showing mercy to John, for he is young and not to blame for the evil inflicted on this nation, in my absence. He was sorely used, and fell prey to the advice of evil men, whom I swear to you, I mean to punish. But now, join me in raising your goblets and toasting him. To Prince John!"

"Robin," Marian said now, from her place on her bed, "you must try to forget it. Prince John can't harm anyone anymore, since the king's returned. Even if he is brought home and forgiven, what does it matter, if he's powerless? Did you really expect the king to try and condemn his own brother?"

"I expected him to recognize a snake when it bites his children. I expected him to dole out justice, and honor men who daily risked their lives for their country!"

"So, that's what this is really about. Your men."

Robin, calming at the soothing tone in her lovely voice, drew near the bed and sat down, facing her.

"They deserve to be knighted, Marian. I'll go to the king myself, and tell him so."

"Not tonight, you won't. Give the king time. I'm sure he'll do the right thing, on his own. After all, he's bound to remember how we all saved him from the sheriff, and now that he's home, he can't help but see the gratitude the people feel toward your men. He'll do what's right. Trust me, Robin."

Robin smiled. "Trust you. You sound like me."

"Which makes me highly attractive, in your eyes?" she teased.

"No. _You _make you highly attractive, in my eyes." He swallowed, seeing her so lovely and desirable, on the very same bed where they'd first given themselves fully to each other, on the night after the sheriff had been missing all day from Nottingham, and Prince John's army had threatened to burn the city to the ground.

"How do you do it, Marian?" he asked, almost humbly.

"Do what?"

"Manage to look so sweet _and_ alluring, at the same time?"

She moved closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. She smiled at the feel of his freshly cut hair, so soft yet unfamiliar, beneath her fingertips. "Lie down," she invited, unable to stop smiling. "You won't believe how soft the bed feels!"

Robin threw himself on his back, then uttered a long drawn out groan of pure pleasure. "I'd forgotten!" he cried, laughing out loud, throwing aside his anger to revel in his beloved wife's company.

Marian lay partially beside him, partially on top. "I thought you told me earlier today, I'd be surprised at all the things you remember. So, do you remember this? Or this? Or this?"

Each "this" was punctuated by a kiss, nearly driving Robin to distraction. In no time at all, his new finery lay crumpled on the floor, and his mouth was moving in eager, joyful hunger over Marian's body.

This was so different from the deeply serious lovemaking they'd enjoyed the night before the battle. Tonight, celebrating victory, with their entire future together stretched out before them, they were as happy and playful as puppies, and as frisky. Their competitive and passionate feelings ignited sparks, while their loving, generous natures supplied tenderness, and it was all very exciting and so much fun, they lay back at last, happy and exhausted and completely fulfilled in each other's arms.

"I wonder if they were expecting you at Locksley tonight," Marian said, her fingertips tracing tiny circles on his chest.

Robin, drifting off to sleep, managed to mumble, "Got to sweep it clean of Gisbourne first, before I go home."

Jolted awake, he sat straight up in bed.

"What is it?" Marian cried, alarmed.

"I've got to find him, Marian! First light tomorrow, I'll go to Sherwood, and hunt him down."


	80. Chapter 80

"No, Robin! You can't be serious!"

Marian sat straight up in bed beside her husband, modestly holding the bedcover to the base of her throat. And she'd thought the nightmare of Robin stalking after Guy of Gisbourne had finally been put to rest! She felt she'd say anything to keep her husband from confronting Guy, for she knew Robin was never himself when facing Gisbourne, and she feared for Robin's life.

"I mean it, Marian," Robin said, his jealous anger making him sound like a completely different person from the happy carefree lover whose passionate kisses and tender caresses she had enjoyed not five minutes before. "Come first light tomorrow, I will hunt him down and find him."

"But the king needs you here! There's so much yet to do!"

"The king can wait. Gisbourne cannot. He must be made to pay for what he's done."

"Robin, no. I refuse to let you go."

The chilling silence that followed her words was worse than any argument might have been.

Robin was staring at her through hardened, searching eyes. She lifted her chin and stared back at him, trying her best not to wilt under his gaze.

"You still want to protect him, don't you, Marian?" he said, unjustly accusing her. "You still can't bear the thought that he'll hang."

"I can't bear the thought of anyone hanging," she insisted. "Haven't we had enough hangings, the past few years?"

"Of the innocent, yes. But Gisbourne's far from innocent, Marian. Even you must admit that."

"We're not arguing about whether or not he deserves to die. I'm trying to get you to see reason and leave him to the king to capture."

"Who knows the forest, better than I do? Who can track, better than I can?"

"No one," she quietly admitted.

"Then why are you trying to keep me here? You're worried I'll kill him, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't put it past you, to try."

"And you can't bear for him to die! Admit it, Marian! You could have captured him yourself in the forest, but you let him go."

Marian's jaw dropped open, in indignant surprise. "How dare you? I told you, he was gone by the time I fetched the rope to bind him! Ask Djaq, if you don't believe me!"

"You know what I think happened?"

"Do tell."

"I think you deliberately led Djaq to a different location, so that your gallant Sir Guy of Gisbourne could make his escape."

"You're mad."

Exhausted from battle, and getting by on little sleep, Robin was not thinking clearly. Fuelled by jealous anger, he accused, "Why else would he continue to swear that you care for him, that there's 'something between you?' From what he gloatingly told me, you wasted precious little time promising to marry him, when you believed me dead!"

Marian had no idea Robin knew about her sacrificial promise to wed Guy, should he agree to kill the sheriff when she was imprisoned in the Holy Land. Hearing him throw it in her face now was more than shocking. She quickly stammered out excuses.

"Do you think I wanted to? I only made that promise to save the king! I thought it was the only way to get him to kill the sheriff! Besides, I needed to think of the safety of our unborn child. You know as well as I, the sheriff and Gisbourne would kill me, once they learned I was carrying your son."

Marian had always been certain their murdered child had been a boy. It hurt to hear her mention it, almost as much as it hurt to think of Marian as Gisbourne's wife.

"And what else did you promise him, eh? What other pleasurable acts did you two engage in, to keep my child safe?"

"Grow up!"

"I'm waiting for your answer."

"Alright, I'll tell you," she snapped, her head filled with lies meant to hurt him. She seized upon her own pain from his affair with Isabella, and parodied it back at him. "We engaged in wild sex, in an open meadow, in broad daylight, but only after he'd been so good as to help me douse a fire in Acre's Christian church. It all happened so fast, we didn't even have time to remove our clothing! Of course, it doesn't matter, since it was only that one time, and it was over so quickly. And don't be concerned, for I was only trying to find you in him, and he was so good at pretending to be like you. Is that what you want me to say?"

Robin knew exactly what she was doing. Without another word, he angrily rose from the bed and snatched up his clothing, stepping into his trousers and pulling his shirt over his head.

"Where are you going?" Marian demanded, her throat constricted.

"Home," he answered. "I'm going home."

There was another moment's silence, while he gathered up his weapons. "Good," she said, at last. "It's lucky for us, no one believes we're married. This way, you and I can go our separate ways. Perhaps the princess can obtain a divorce! She'd be only too delighted to marry you and give you the heir you need, now that you're the Earl of Huntington again."

Robin froze, dismayed by her words. "What are you saying, Marian?" he asked.

"I'm saying I won't marry you, Robin of Locksley, not if you were the last man on earth. Now, get out of my room! Go to the forest, and hunt for Gisbourne! I hope he cuts your heart out."

...

Arriving in Locksley in the middle of the night, Robin was surprised to find most of his household staff awake, waiting up for him. He felt guilty for not coming home sooner. Wounded by Marian's words, he felt his loyal staff were the people who truly loved him.

Thornton tried to squeeze his joy behind suitable dignity, but it gushed from him when Robin clasped him in an embrace.

"Master Robin!" the manor stewart and reeve cried out. "Welcome home, at last!"

Mary, another longtime faithful servant, could not keep back her joyful tears. Robin hugged her too, impulsively.

"You smell wonderful," he said.

"Master Robin!"

"You do!" He grinned. "You smell of my own hall and kitchen."

"It's good to have you back, Master," Thomas said.

"It's good to be back. Now, off to bed, all of you! I'll be up and out early tomorrow, on a mission. But I'll be home every night, from here on out. No need to prepare breakfast for me, Minna," he told the cook. "I've grown used to fending for myself."

"Goodnight. May God bless you, Master Robin!" his servants cried, knowing they felt too overjoyed to sleep at all that night.

Robin, distraught over his argument with Marian, tried to put it out of his mind as he prepared to sleep in his own bed. Exhausted, he quickly fell into a fitful sleep, troubled by nightmares. The killing he'd committed, coupled with his fight with his wife, sent him into a sleep filled with tortured dreams.

He awoke well before dawn, wondering where he was. Remembering, he rose and dressed and armed himself, then set out alone for the familiar secret trails of Sherwood, determined to capture his foe.


	81. Chapter 81

The following morning, Marian felt as dead inside as the corpses being hastily buried in the aftermath of battle. All the same, she was up and dressed and ready to help the men as they continued their clean up efforts.

She didn't notice the soldiers stopping work to stare at her, but Little John did. Protectively, he frightened them all back to work with nothing more than a glowering look and a ferocious growl.

"Oh, hello, Marian," Much greeted her. "You look nice! You look just like you did when the sheriff made you read that announcement about the pestilence, which turned out not to be pestilence at all, but poison! Do you remember that?"

"I do."

She felt so depressed, it was an effort merely to speak.

"If you're looking for Robin," Much continued, grimacing as he carefully lifted an empty boot and tossed it into a pile, "he's not here. Do you think I should go to Locksley, and fetch him? I mean, he's late, of course, but I could hurry him on his way. None of the other servants know how to do that! They'll just fawn over him, and let him forget the time, and before you know it-"

"You're not his servant anymore, Much," Marian reminded him curtly. "Let him look after himself. He doesn't deserve you. He never did."

"What?" Much stood gaping open mouthed at her, unable to believe his ears. "You don't mean that! Surely! I mean, well, you're right of course, but I never thought I'd hear you say it!"

"Why not? It's true. He doesn't deserve any of us."

Now, Much began to understand. "Oh, so you've had a fight! Now I _know_ I need to go to Locklsey! Do you think the king would mind if I borrowed a horse?"

"Robin's not at Locksley. He's in the forest, the fool."

"The forest? What-wha-what's he doing there?"

"He's hunting for Gisbourne."

Much's jaw dropped open again. "Gisbourne? Unbelievable! I knew something like this would happen! I knew it! We can't just survive a battle, and go on with our lives, now that the king is home and everything! Oh, no! We have to be everyone's hero and go dashing off into the forest and catch the villain, single handed, I might add! Single handed? Is he, Marian? Tell me Robin didn't go off to find Gisbourne alone!"

Marian responded by staring at Much with raised eyebrows.

Much began pacing frantically. "Oh, this is horrible! Terrible! We can't let him do this! I mean...Gisbourne! We've got to stop him, Marian!"

"Believe me, I tried. You try stopping the most stubborn fool in Christendom, and see what happens. Anyway, I don't care anymore."

"Don't care? What? You don't mean that!"

Marian gave a small shrug.

"Where in the forest? I mean, where is he? The forest's huge...massive! And Robin's good at hiding! Well, I mean, he's more than good, he's...he's...What's the word I want that means expert?"

Marian heaved out a quick sigh and continued shifting through rubble.

"Should you be doing that?" Much asked. "You'll get your hands dirty."

"I lived in the forest with you, Much. I'm used to dirty hands. Besides, there are worse things in heaven and earth, like husbands who can't see reason."

"Husbands! Yes! I nearly forgot! I'm going! I'm going to go look for Robin! And if I don't come back..." He gulped. "...Remember me fondly."

Marian rolled her eyes, knowing Much didn't stand a chance of finding his friend. She'd know where to look, of course, but she wasn't about to help a fool who'd accused her so unjustly, just because he was jealous of a man she'd only kissed a few times, one dreadful afternoon, when she was trying to save Robin's life!

Save his life! She couldn't count the number of times she'd done that, ever since he returned home from war! Yet, here he was again, throwing his life at risk, when it wasn't necessary. The king would send troops into the forest to capture Guy, Guy who'd tried on more than one occasion to murder his king. But, no. Robin couldn't wait. Robin had to rush in alone, all sense and reason gone, and face a man who was likely to kill him.

All at once, Marian knew what she had to do. Just like Much, she knew she couldn't rest until she had gone after him, to search the forest and save her husband.


	82. Chapter 82

Marian felt certain, considering Robin's ability at tracking, that sooner or later he would come upon the place in the forest where she had punched Gisbourne, and so, she waited impatiently for him there.

To pass the time, she practiced throwing her knife at a notch in a treetrunk. It always helped to calm her, whenever she was angry at Robin. She'd done it hour upon hour after he'd caught "Crusader Fever," that wave of hysteria for holy war and glory that swept across England and most of Europe, taking the cross to join King Richard in fighting to free Jerusalem from the Turk.

It was ironic how the aim she had perfected because she "hated" him for choosing war, had saved his life the day he first became an outlaw. A hairpin wasn't so very different to aim than a knife, after all.

"Looking for me, Marian?"

Robin's voice, smug and self satisfied, interrupted her thoughts now, just after her knife blade slammed into the side of an oak. "I realize I blend into the forest pretty well," he boasted, "but that's the first time you've ever mistaken a tree for me."

A quick glance at him over her shoulder told her he was still just as angry as she was, though she didn't realize his anger, like hers, was only a mask to cover how badly he was hurting. Dressed in his dark brown leather he'd recently worn while living in the forest, arrow nocked to his bow, his face wore the angry, spoiled child look she particularly despised. At least, she despised herself for finding him so attractive, even while wearing that look.

"Find Gisbourne yet?" she mockingly asked, every bit as smug as he. "I think, if you look closely, your remarkable eyesight and superior tracking skills will reveal three sets of footprints, belonging to Guy, myself, and Djaq, proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I did NOT lead Djaq to a different location from where I punched Guy, as you so wrongly accused. So, that being said, are you going to apologize to me?"

"I may have been wrong about that," he admitted, coldly.

"Only about that?" She spun around to look him fully in the face. Steamy images of last night's exuberant lovemaking flashed through her mind, making her angry at herself for thinking of them. Shoving them aside, she slid her knife between her cleavage, proudly lifted her chin, and said, "I don't know why I wasted my time, coming here to save you, Fool."

"Save me? You?" He snickered, cocky and overly sure of himself. "I don't think so. In fact, it's my job to save _you_, not the other way around."

"Really? If I'd only known that when I talked that boy out of shooting me, I could have saved myself a lot of trouble. Oh, that's right, you showed up late! If I'd had to depend on you, I'd be dead!"

"What boy?"

"The boy who lost his father in the mine. The one who won the silver arrow."

"Rowan? I won that arrow for him, in case you've forgotten."

"Because I told you to!" Marian felt a twinge of unexpected jealousy that Robin knew the young man's name. Robin always connected with people, effortlessly. He genuinely liked and respected others, no matter what station they were born to, and they returned his feelings. Usually, she felt proud of him for this quality. Today, it frankly made her angry. "You always have to have the glory, don't you?" she accused.

"I don't go looking for glory. Glory comes looking for me."

"Like trouble?"

"Yes."

_How dare he swagger about a thing like that? _"You really are full of yourself, aren't you, Locksley? But we were talking about who saves who."

"Whom. Who saves _whom_. Get it right, Marian."

"Shut up. I've saved your scruffy neck more often than I care to acknowledge."

"Good. Then don't."

"Don't what? Save you anymore?"

"That, too. I can look after myself, you know. But what I meant was, don't acknowledge it."

"Don't tell me what to do! What about the day I threw my hairpin into the shoulder of the sheriff's archer? What about the day I drew Gisbourne and the sheriff away from lowering you into a pit of vipers? What about the day I stopped Gisbourne from cutting off your head?"

"Cutting off my head?" Robin, pretending to be amused, scoffed. "When did he threaten that?"

"He didn't threaten. He was about to do it! You were drugged, supposedly dead. I should have let him."

"Oh, that day! But then, you would have missed kissing him, surely the most exciting day of your life! Or would you have rushed straight to the altar, once I was out of the way?"

"You know very well why I kissed him. And you're a fool if you think I'd ever marry such a man. You saw the bruises he put on me."

Robin had no comeback for that. He had indeed seen the bruises, seen them last night and the night before that. They infuriated him, renewing his resolve to find the brute who had dared hurt Marian, and bring him to justice.

"If there's nothing else," he said, his eyes glinting dangerously again, "I'll be on my way."

"That's right. Run away again."

"I do not run!" He stopped in his tracks and whirled around to face her, his former mocking tone instantly replaced by passionate insistance.

"No?" She rolled her eyes. Now, it was her turn to mock him, and it felt good.

But Robin's next heartfelt speech swept away her superior attitude, making her bare her soul back to him. "I went to the Holy Land to recover Jerusalem!" he cried, longing for her to understand. "I thought it was the right thing to do! I didn't want to leave you, Marian. How many times must I explain? I know now, it was a mistake!"

"Five years you were gone!" The anguish she'd felt by his absence poured forth from her voice and eyes. "Five years, and I didn't know if you were alive or dead! I heard such awful stories, when I could get any news at all. I heard there were deaths every day in the king's camp."

"It's true, there were. Sickness took more lives than battle, but..."

His voice trailed off, and his eyes grew distant. Marian knew his mind had taken him back to Acre, and that she needed to pull him back to the present, or he'd suffer nightmares in his sleep tonight.

"You're home now," she reminded him. "Really home! Home at Locksley, where you belong! Robin, don't you see? That's why I didn't want you to go chasing after Gisbourne. The king is home! There's no reason for you to risk your life, _our _life, when everything good's about to be restored."

"I didn't mean those things I said to you, Marian. I'm truly sorry. _Will _you marry me?"

"I didn't mean them, either. And of course, I will! I love you, Robin."

"And I love you."

Their kisses were interrupted by the sound of someone, or something, hacking through a bush, accompanied by a great deal of sputtering and complaining. Leaves were fluttering everywhere, twigs were snapping, and a voice was crying out, "Watch out! Last warning! I'm coming, in the name of Robin Hood and King Richard!"

"Much," Robin sighed, unable to hold back a grin, "it's a good thing you won't need to sneak up on anyone, ever again. I think they must have heard you all the way in France."

"Really? That's incredible! Oh, hello, Marian! It looks like you two must have mended your quarrel! I knew you would! And speaking of France, I found out that's where Gisbourne's gone, at least, that's what I heard from the lads at the Blue Boar Inn. Nobody knows exactly where in France, so don't get any ideas about hunting for him there, alright, Master?"

Robin's sigh was a mixture of frustration and relief. "France?" he repeated.

His face clearly showed he was contemplating a trip across the channel. But Marian took his arm and told him, "Robin of Locksley, you left your people once before on the eve of our wedding, to chase after a dream that turned into a nightmare. Don't even think of leaving me again, to chase a nightmare with no chance of ever turning into a dream. Do you hear me?"

Robin smiled adoringly down at her. "I'll never leave you again, my love," he promised. "I swear it."


	83. Chapter 83

"My lady, if you want your wedding dress fitted properly, you must hold still!"

The matronly seamstress was doing her best to create a gown worthy of the beautiful and gallant Lady Marian, but the task was proving difficult. Although the lady was exceptionally couteous, polite, and kind, it was obvious she had little patience for long, tiresome fittings. Clearly, she was not one to stand about for hours being draped and pinned and stitched, when there were so many other "important" matters that needed attending.

"Please, my lady. Hold out your arm while I fit the sleeve. Now, are you certain you want the waistline high? With such a lovely figure, it seems a shame to hide it!"

"Yes, please, Hannah. I've never owned a gown with a high waistline before. Forgive me, but how much longer do you expect this to take?"

Hannah did not answer, busily stitching a seam on the underside of a sleeve. The pale, silvery blue silk was perfect for the bride, with her Celtic blue eyes. The blue eyed groom was rumored to be outfitted in a doublet of blue and silver as well, and Hannah would wager there'd never be such a lovely couple as the legendary Robin Hood and his noble bride, Maid Marian. If only the lass would hold still!

"Please, my lady! My lady?"

Her Ladyship wasn't merely fidgeting, she was swaying! Her usually glowing complexion had suddenly gone ghastly white, including her typically rosy red lips.

"Help me," Marian begged, weakly, and Hannah dropped her needle to steady the lady on her feet.

"There now, Your Ladyship, I've kept you too long without a bite to eat! No wonder you nearly swooned! Here, sit awhile. Take some wine. It will strengthen you."

The mere thought of wine made Marian gag. She didn't want to eat or drink anything, with her stomach so suddenly nauseous.

The last thing she wanted was to be ill for her wedding day! Despite having told Robin she didn't need a wedding, now that it drew near, she realized just how much she did want it. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd secretly cherished the dream of being married to Robin in the Locksley village church. And even though her dear, kind father wouldn't be present to give her away, the man she loved with all her heart would be kneeling beside her, slipping a ring on her finger, saying his "I dos." She only hoped he'd remember the words this time!

"Ah! There's that lovely smile!" Hannah was saying. "You feel recovered, my lady? I still say you should eat, before you stand or try to do anything."

Marian realized she _would _like something to eat. In fact, she had a strong desire for quail eggs, which was odd, since she rarely feasted on them. "Do you think the kitchen has any quail eggs, Hannah?" she asked. "I'll eat anything of course, but I'd really like some quail eggs, if they're available."

Hannah looked questioningly at her, then chuckled under her breath. "Now I understand why you asked for the high waistline! But, bless you, my lady, you're not showing yet! You can wear any style gown you want, and no one will be any wiser."

"Wiser?" Marian repeated, confused. "Hannah, what exactly are you saying?"

But Hannah only chuckled, then sent word to the kitchens to fetch Lady Marian a platter of fresh quail eggs.

...

Off and on throughout the day, Marian battled waves of nausea. One moment she felt fine, and the next, she grew faint and sick to her stomach. The dizziness didn't last long, but it upset her all the same. She couldn't be getting sick, not now!

Deciding the wisest thing to do would be to get some rest, she retired to her room and tried to lie still on her bed. But she'd much rather be busy doing something helpful, than to waste her time resting!

A knock on her door alerted her that Robin had heard about her bouts of sickness.

"Come in!" she called, glad of his company.

His face showed his concern as he entered. "Marian, are you alright?" he asked, sounding worried.

"I hope so. I feel fine now, but-no, Robin! Don't get too close."

Disregarding her warning, he sat beside her on the bed and tenderly brushed back the hair from her face. "You don't feel warm," he noticed, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Would you like Djaq to take a look at you? Or I could bring Matilda."

"Don't be ridiculous. It's probably just stress, or lack of sleep."

"Oh. Sorry."

Robin grinned sheepishly, and Marian smiled back at him. "I'm not complaining, Handsome."

"Good. But...?"

"But maybe, just until after the wedding, you should keep away. I'd hate to pass something onto you, in case I am sick."

"You're sure? We _are_ already married, you know, Marian. I'll take the risk."

"No. I don't want you to. Besides, being parted will make the wedding night all that much sweeter."

"I don't think that's possible."

"Oh, don't you?"

"No, I don't. But, since you ask, I'll be a lonely bachelor for a few days. Now, how are you feeling? Is there anything you want?"

Marian thought for a moment, then answered, "Is there any chance you can bring some oranges, like they grow in the Holy Land? I'm really hungry for oranges!"

"Oranges? I don't know where I'll find them, but if there's a single orange to be had, in the whole of England, I'll bring it to you."

Marian rolled onto her back, happy and satisfied. "If anyone can find one, Robin Hood can," she said, smiling.


	84. Chapter 84

Marian hadn't realized she had dropped off to sleep until the sound of an arrow sizzling through her castle bedchamber startled her awake.

The arrow brought with it a little feeling of excitement on its course through her window. Marian stretched luxuriously, then sat up in bed, blinking her eyes at the sun's last golden afternoon rays. "Oh, Robin," she whispered, "what are you up to now?"

Catching sight of the arrow, she gave a quick, delighted little gasp. How he'd managed it was beyond her knowledge, but she couldn't be any happier if the crown jewels had been poured into her lap.

A round, ripe, juicy orange had been pierced through its center, and delivered, skewered on an arrow that could only have been shot by the greatest archer in England. And even though Marian had lost her sudden craving for the fruit, she felt treasured and loved, knowing her simplest requests mattered to him.

She wouldn't eat it all by herself. She'd save it to share with him, later that evening.

But for now, she needed to hurry out of bed and dress. The King was hosting another banquet in the Great Hall, and she couldn't wait to dance with Robin again tonight.

...

A familiar footfall behind him made Robin quickly hide what he'd been looking at in the neckline of his shirt.

"I caught you!" Much declared, proudly. "I saw you looking at Marian's ring again!"

"I wasn't!" Robin lied.

"Oh, yes, you were! I saw you! You're like a lovesick school boy, you know."

"Speaking of sick," Robin said, deftly changing the subject, "have you heard of anyone being unwell in the castle?"

"No. Why? Is someone sick? Who? Who, Robin? You're not coming down with something, are you? I knew it!"

"No, Much, I'm fine. It's Marian."

"Marian? What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing serious, I hope. She's just been feeling kind of queasy, off and on, all day."

"Well. Maybe she's not used to the food here, after living on my cooking. It does take some getting used to."

"I don't think that's it, Much."

"No? Well, ask Djaq to take a look at her. That's what you should do, Master! If anything's wrong, Djaq will know what it is."

Robin nodded, then casually asked, "Much, do you remember the name of those flowers Marian always liked?"

"Flowers? You're asking _me_ what flowers your wife likes? That's something you ought to know, Master. Not me."

"I'm not your master any more, Lord Bonchurch."

"Yes. Well, you can wipe that smile off your face when you use my title. You gave it to me, after all. And just because you were so generous, I _will_ tell you the name of your wife's favorite flower! Better yet, I'll sing it to you!"

"No! No song!"

"I could sing at your wedding, if you'd rather."

"No! I wouldn't!"

"Hmm! Do you want to know something, Master?"

"What, Much?"

"You're nervous! That's right! You're nervous about your wedding!"

Robin heaved out a long drawn out sigh. "You're right," he admitted. "I am. I just want Marian to be happy, living with me at Locksley."

"Don't worry, Robin. She put up with you, living in the forest. I don't think she'll start complaining, moving into a grand mansion."

"That's because that's your job," Robin snickered, teasingly.

"Very funny!" Much sputtered, smiling behind his outrage.


	85. Chapter 85

"Oi! Leave some wine for the rest of us, Tuck! Not bein' funny, but you swill down enough to float a barn."

The king's banquet was even more festive than the night before, and Allan was amused to see how much food and drink Friar Tuck could down.

Much, filled to the brim with wine himself, readily joined his friend in good naturedly berating the friar. It wasn't every day, after all, that he could be on the giving, rather than receiving end, of Allan's barbs. "Yes!" he agreed. "We thought you holy friars were supposed to be able to resist temptation. "

The merry friar, enjoying the young men's teasing, raised his chalice to salute them. "I confess, food and drink have always been my weakness, but I'm thankful I've been able to resist temptation in all other matters. I have never forgotten my vow of chastity, for instance!"

Allan snorted. "No danger there! You're so fat, what woman could put her arms around you?"

Much grew suddenly sad.

"What's your problem?" Allan asked.

"Bonchurch isn't the same, without Eve," a drunken Much complained.

"Eve!" Allan laughed. "There's a name to tempt you!"

Friar Tuck handed Much his chalice. "Here, my son," he offered. "Perhaps my thimbleful of wine might cheer you."

Suddenly, Robin appeared beside them, startling them with his uncanny ability to sneak up undetected. Clapping the friar on his back, he jested, "Are you performing miracles, now, Tuck, turning thimblefuls into gallons? And I think you've had enough, Much."

"Master!" Much, thrilled to see Robin, recovered his festive spirit. "I say we all drink to Robin! We are Robin Hood!"

"Don't forget the king!" Robin added, reaching for his own goblet from a passing servant, whom he thanked with a open hearted, friendly grin. "To King Richard!"

"King Richard!"

After drinking down the toasts, Much looked up and said, "Robin, I thought you told me Marian was sick. She doesn't look sick! I mean-"

"Excuse me."

Robin, spying his wife entering the hall, immediately deserted his friends to be at her side.

"Every time!" Much complained.

"Come on," Allan invited. "_You_ never took a chastity vow! Tonight's the night I introduce you to some friends of mine. Real lovely, friendly girls, honest."

"No," Much decided, tempted though he was. "I made a promise to Eve, and I intend to keep it."

...

"So," Robin said, smiling lovingly down at the gorgeous vision in green who was his wife, "you're feeling better. Did you get my present?"

The last time he remembered seeing her in that gown, she'd been angrily leading a horse away after he'd spied on her "offering friendship" to a half naked Gisbourne. The memory still stung, but his happiness at seeing her looking so well tonight triumphed over any lingering feelings of jealousy.

"Thank you, I did," she graciously answered. "Would you like to share it with me, later?"

"Are you inviting me to your chamber? Lady Locksley! And I thought you wanted to refrain before the wedding!"

"Grow up. I'm only offering fruit, you fool."

"Much was just talking about Eve," he teased her, snickering. "So, it wasn't an apple after all, but an orange that tempted Adam!"

"Stop it. Just for that, I'll eat it myself."

Robin grinned infectiously, enjoying the flash of anger in her eyes. In no time at all, she rolled her eyes, forgiving him his impudence.

"You're very cheeky tonight," she scolded, with a smile. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm celebating my last few days of freedom. Haven't you heard? I'm getting married soon."

"I wouldn't count on that, if I were you. If the bride has any sense, she'll wise up and run for the nearest convent."

"And miss out on all the fun? I don't think so!"

Marian couldn't resist. Pulling him into the shadows, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Princess Johanna had been watching Robin, ever since he'd entered the Great Hall. All of her anticipated excitement over the festivity vanished, while she watched him eagerly kissing his wife.

But her joy was restored, when a herald suddenly announced, "The Queen!"

Every knee except for those of Richard, Johanna, and Djaq, kneeled down, and every head bowed. Looking up, all beheld the regal sight at the top of the stairs. Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine had arrived.

Little John's head immediately dropped back down, as he tried to hide from the woman's gaze. But John was the last person able to hide, in a room filled with courtiers.

"When I heard the herald, I was expecting Richard's queen," Marian whispered to Robin, "not his mother. When do you think she'll arrive?"

"I don't know. I would have thought she'd be here by now. She suffered long enough, living on a battlefield in that harsh, unforgiving climate, and believe me, she's the last person you'd think could endure it!"

"What's she like?"

Knowing that as the Countess of Huntington, she'd be spending time serving the queen at Court, Marian was eager to learn what sort of woman her mistress would be.

After formally greeting the Queen Mother, Robin answered Marian's question while leading her in a dance.

"You'll like her," he answered honestly. "I do. What's more, I respect her. She's noble, and good, and truly loves her husband."

"Does he love her back?"

"Who can say? He's kind to her, mostly."

"What do you mean, 'mostly'?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Robin! This is me you're talking to! This isn't gossip. I just want to know."

He sighed, unhappily. "Alright, I'll tell you. Her Majesty doesn't seem able to...to give the king an heir. I'm sorry, Marian! You said you wanted to know!"

Marian had stopped dancing, her face betraying her own unhappiness at being unable to become a mother herself. "And of course, the king's displeased with her for that?"

"Hey...hey," he murmured comfortingly. "They're not us, alright? He married her solely to beget an heir. I married you because I love you. Don't be sad, please, Marian."

After a pause, she nodded her head. To cheer her, Robin gestured toward Little John, miserably stumbling about the dance floor with the elegant Queen Eleanor. Marian managed a wisp of a smile.

"How does the king show his displeasure, Robin? And how does the Queen react?"

"He doesn't, not openly. Except for...there's this awful girl."

"He has a mistress?"

"Not exactly. She's...her name's Anna." Marian could tell Robin didn't like discussing the subject. But he pressed on. "He picked her up in Cyprus, on our way to the Holy Land," he continued. "Her father, Isaac Komnenos, was ruling over the island, evilly, and we arrived, waged war to free the Cypriots, and conquered him. Richard claimed the island, stole Isaac's horse, and brought his daughter along, as a hostage."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I, fully. I don't think there's anything carnal going on between them, at least, not regularly. Richard is a devoted husband, in his way. Beregaria will always be second to war, for him. But that Anna, she openly worships Richard, yet disrespects him to his face, calling him Melek Ric, as the Saracens do, and he keeps her around, like some sort of naughty pet, when it clearly upsets his wife."

"I wouldn't put up with that!"

Robin snickered happily. "No, you would not!"

Marian's cheeks were flaming. "Is he still involved with her?"

"Joan said he is. She despises the wanton as much as I do, loving the queen like a sister. What's more, Anna's been openly flaunting an affair with Joan's husband."

"You're making my head spin. I think I'd rather be a simple knight's daughter again, and not know all these so called 'romantic' intrigues of the Court."

"We'll only go to Court when it's absolutely necessary, I promise. But don't hate the king, Marian! He wasn't designed to be a lover. He's a warrior, pure and simple! A braver man never lived, nor one so worthy to rule over England."

Marian gave Robin a smile. Her husband would always worship Richard, she knew, even when confronted by the man's human failings.

"I wish I hadn't asked," she told him. "May we speak of other matters, and enjoy the dance now?"

"Of course, my love. I'm not just making conversation, you know, when I tell you, you look gorgeous tonight."

She smiled again, this time joyfully. "It's fun, isn't it, to live like civilized people again!"

"I can't wait till Saturday, when you move home with me. I want to always make you happy, Marian. I love you."

Before she could answer, the room suddenly started spinning. She barely heard Robin's voice calling out her name, before she swooned in a faint.

...

**(Note: Hope nobody was bored by the true historical facts inserted in this chapter. I've been reading a lot about King Richard lately, and can't resist including history to my stories. Just to inform you, Anna Komnenos married Princess Johanna's vicious husband, as soon as Joan died in childbirth. Since he was such an abusive man, she probably suffered as much as she made the queen suffer earlier).**


	86. Chapter 86

Marian awoke in the Great Hall to find Robin crouched down beside her, while a strange man in black bent over her, observing.

"It's alright, my love," Robin assured her, lightly stroking her face. "You passed out. This is the king's own personal physician. He'll take care of you."

Rapidly blinking her eyes, Marian took in the scene around her. Her unexpected fainting spell had interrupted the king's banquet, and all eyes seemed to be focused on her. She could see the royal family hovering nearby, concern on their faces replacing their royal demeanor, and Robin's men scattered throughout the crowd, looking relieved that she had awakened. There were other faces in the crowd she recognized, most staring at her with avid curiosity, as though she were providing them entertainment.

"Robin, I don't like them looking at me," she told her husband.

"Let's get you somewhere private. John?"

"I don't need to be carried," Marian insisted, sitting up. "And I don't need a physician. I'm perfectly fine now, thank you."

The king stepped forward. "Apologies, Lady Marian, but I insist upon having Doctor Besace take a look at you. For though it is not unusual for a lady to swoon in an overheated, crowded banqueting hall, it is unusual for one so strong she previously survived two deadly wounds!"

"The lady is right," Queen Eleanor spoke up. "She has no need of your physician, Richard. It should be obvious, why she fainted. I'll wager Johanna can guess, can't you, my dear?"

"Yes, Maman," the princess answered, somewhat wistfully. "And I would like to be the first to congratulate the happy couple. Robin, may I kiss you?"

"I don't understand," Marian blurted out. "And no, you may not!"

"Take it from a woman who has endured the birthing chamber ten times," Queen Eleanor continued, smiling proudly. "You, my lady, are clearly with child!"

Marian gasped and looked straight at Robin. He stared straight back at her, as surprised as she was. For a few brief, shining moments, hope flickered in their eyes. And then, reality set back in.

"No," Marian uttered, sadly. "That's impossible."

"Is milady still a maid?" the doctor asked.

Thankfully, Robin spared Marian the embarrassment of having to answer. "We're already married," he explained. "The upcoming wedding is for my village." _As well as for us, _Robin added to himself, realizing how much the ceremony would mean to both of them.

"Well, then, why is it impossible?" Doctor Besace persisted. "When did milady last suffer her monthly purge?"

Again, Robin answered before Marian had the chance. "A little more than two weeks ago, wasn't it, Marian? No, it was three."

"Ah!" the doctor cried. "Then you are right. It is impossible."

A collective sigh of disappointment seemed to descend over the entire Great Hall.

"Could they all please stop staring at us?" Marian demanded angrily, her face flushed.

"Come on," Robin said lovingly to her, helping her to her feet. Turning to the king, he added, "If you will excuse us, Your Majesty, I'd like a few moments alone with my wife."

The king gave his permission with a nod, and Robin escorted Marian through the curious crowd, up the stairs, and outside to an empty, open courtyard.

The sky was liberally sprinkled with stars, and a soft breeze kissed their cheeks, refreshing them after the stifling, overheated air in the hall.

"I've lived outdoors so long," Robin quietly began, "there are times now I feel trapped in a box. I just want to get outside, and move."

"And breathe," Marian added, understanding.

Without warning, she broke down and began to weep. Robin immediately enfolded her in his strong, comforting arms.

"Shh," he whispered, soothingly. "It's alright, my love."

"It's not, though, is it?" she insisted, crying against his chest.

"No, it is." His voice was warm, like honey from a summer beehive. He began stroking her hair soothingly, with tender concern. "The king's returned, and we're to be officially married, and you'll come home to Locksley with me, if you'll still have me, of course! And then, we can set about doing what we do best, helping our people and loving one another. Now, we just need to find out what's causing your dizzy spells, and stop them. Alright?"

"And what about an heir?"

"It doesn't matter, Marian."

"It does! Robin, you're the Earl of Huntington! One of the foremost peers of the realm! You're required to have an heir!"

"Shh!"

"Don't shush me! You know it's true!"

"We could have ten children, and they could all die before they're grown. It happens, Marian! Now, please, you need to calm down."

Fear gripped Robin's heart, fear that he was somehow losing her.

"You're not...not changing your mind about marrying me, are you?" he asked, more worried than he'd felt in a long time. "Is that what's making you ill?"

Her outrage at being told to "calm down" immediately gave way when she saw the vulnerability in his eyes.

"No, of course not!" she hastened to assure him. "Robin, I love you! We _are _married, and nothing can tear us apart! It's just..."

"We can't have children, and it's breaking your heart."

She nodded, sadly. "If anyone should be a father, it's you," she told him. "I've watched you with children, Robin. You have such a way with them. I'll never forget how you made Bat's little face light up, whenever you looked at him. You made him feel treasured, and loved, and he'd never felt that before."

"It was an easy thing to do, loving him. You cared for him even more than I did, I think."

Marian sniffed, blinking back tears. "Poor little boy," she murmured sadly.

They sat side by side on a bench, arms around each other's waists, her head resting on his shoulder, neither one speaking aloud.

After a time, Much appeared, looking nervous. "There you are!" he cried. "I knew I'd find you here! Well, I wasn't exactly sure. I searched a few more places first, but I found you at last! Are you alright?"

"We're fine, Much," Robin answered, wishing they could have a few more moments alone.

"Everybody's asking for you," Much continued. "The doctor wants to...wants to... he wants to look at you, Marian."

"Tell him I don't want him to," she answered, stubbornly.

"Um, well, er, um...I don't think the king will be pleased to hear that. And so, if you want to tell him, you may tell him yourself!"

"It won't hurt to have him take a look at you, Marian," Robin counselled. "I know I'll feel a lot better, once I know what's going on."

"There's nothing going on. I'm fine," she insisted.

She rose to her feet, then all at once, everything seemed to be spinning. "Robin," she called, weakly. "Help me!"


	87. Chapter 87

Deeply perplexed by Marian's malady, Robin tried to keep the concern from his eyes as he watched Ralph Besace, the king's physician, examine his precious wife.

He trusted the man as a wise and skilled physician, but all the same, he couldn't help but be disturbed by Marian's sudden and unexplained dizzy spells.

"Well, Doctor," Marian said, impatient for the examination to be over, "will I live?"

"Until the Lord sees fit to take you," Doctor Besace replied. "Your present condition poses no threat. You, young lady, are most extraordinarily healthy! I see nothing whatsoever wrong with you. Are you completely certain you suffered your monthly purge when your husband said?"

"Yes," Marian shot back, embarrassed. "I am not with child, Doctor."

"Hmm. Time will tell. As for now, I believe your humors are out of balance. Will you submit to letting me bleed you?"

Marian responded with a quick nod of her head, and held out her arm. Robin stepped forward to be by her side.

"Would you hold the bowl, my lord?" the king's physician asked. "I won't take much from your lady. I believe a small amount will suffice."

Robin, silent and grim, did as he was asked, holding a bowl by the edge of the table where Marian lay, to catch her blood as it gathered and dripped from the doctor's incision.

To ease the tension, Doctor Besace began to speak. "Do you know, young lady, I am well acquainted with your name. I heard it many times before I had the honor to meet you this evening."

"I suppose you've heard the songs?" Marian asked. "Don't believe them, Doctor."

"Of course...the songs! The king's favorite troubadour, Blondel, is busy composing more, since he laid eyes on you at the banquet last night, milady! He is quite smitten, I assure you."

"We noticed," Robin mentioned, dryly.

Doctor Besace chuckled lightly. "But, no, I wasn't referring to the songs, but to the sound of your name, croaked hoarsely through blistered, fevered lips, over and over again, from a man I was certain had no chance to survive."

Marian's glance went from the doctor to Robin, and back again. "You treated my husband, in the Holy Land? Thank you! I don't know how to thank you, for saving his life!"

"I treated his fever. If I'd first treated the wound that caused it, he wouldn't have caught the contagion that nearly killed him. I was certain he wasn't going to make it, milady. He's a fighter, you know."

"Yes. I do know."

The long look that passed between husband and wife was one of pure adoration.

"Well, now, I believe that should do," the doctor stated, pressing a clean cloth to Marian's wrist, then bandaging the cut. "Now, get plenty of rest, and eat regular meals. Stay away from those dishes that are too richly spiced. You've been used a different sort of diet, I am sure, living in the forest."

Sitting up, Marian's dimples appeared in her cheeks, and her eyes lit up with mischief.

"What?" Robin asked, his own face mirroring her amused expression.

"Nothing. It's just...Much said it was all due to not eating his cooking anymore!"

Robin threw back his head and laughed.

"Thank you, Doctor," he said, holding out his hand. "Should she pass on tonight's festivities?"

"Put her straight to bed. Doctor's orders."

...

"You heard the doctor, Marian," Robin said with a wicked grin, safely enclosed behind the locked door of her bedchamber. "I was ordered to put you straight to bed."

"I don't think this is what he had in mind."

"I'm only following orders, like a good soldier. He did save my life, you know."

They melted together in a long, deep, satisfying kiss. Marian's hair came cascading down, when Robin pulled a hairpin from it.

They broke the kiss to gaze lovingly into each other's eyes. All traces of teasing on his face were gone, replaced by genuine, loving affection. Passion was strong as well, but it was tempered by concern over her condition.

Holding her tenderly around her waist, Robin said, "Now, I think you said something earlier tonight about sharing an orange?"

"Yes!" Extremely happy, Marian ran across the room, picked up the orange, and tossed it to Robin. "You peel it," she said, almost giddy.

Robin grinned back at her. "You're making me nervous, Marian," he teased. "What's so funny about me peeling an orange?"

She came up behind him and wrapped him in her arms, resting her cheek against his back. "I was just remembering how hard it was for you to peel my clothing off, the first time we..."

Robin laughed out loud, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "Lady Locksley! It wasn't my fault, you wore trickey clothing!"

"Ladies' clothing," she corrected. "But no, I thought it was sweet. I wouldn't have liked it, if you were too highly skilled at what to do."

"I've gotten a lot better, with practice," Robin said, his wicked grin reappearing.

The conversation was veering into dangerous waters, so Marian steered it back onto a safer path, as she sat on her bed, enjoying a slice of orange.

"I'm feeling much better, Robin! I suppose it really was just my humors out of balance."

"Good." Sitting beside her, he removed her dancing slippers and laid her feet on his lap. "I promised my servants I'd be home tonight. Will you be alright, my love? I could stay, if you'd rather."

She sighed, half with contentment, half longing. "Go home, Handsome. I'll be fine. I'll get a good night's sleep, to be ready to be fitted for my wedding gown in the morning. I just wish the seamstress wasn't so slow!"

"Don't like standing still, eh?" He chuckled. "I'm surprised you have any decent clothes at all, not that it matters what you wear. You look gorgeous in anything."

She lay back on the bed, stiffled a yawn, then held out her arms to him. "Kiss me goodnight," she beckoned.

Smiling broadly, Robin lay on top of her, meaning to kiss her chastely. But he couldn't hide the passion welling up inside him, at the touch of her lips.

Marian had no complaints. Giving herself up to the moment, she was surprised when he broke away and rose from the bed.

"Goodnight, my love," he murmured, fighting back his desire. "Get some rest. Two more nights, and then, God willing, we'll never have to sleep apart again."

He was gone before Marian had a chance to close her mouth, which had remained open in surprise.

Sighing, Marian changed into her nightdress, then lay back down, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her. "Goodnight, my love," she whispered, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.


	88. Chapter 88

Early the following morning, Marian rode a horse to a cottage on the edge of Sherwood, to seek out Matilda and ask her a question.

Matilda's face lit up when she saw the beautiful young woman leap down from the saddle and tie her reins to a tree.

"Lady Marian! And on the eve of your wedding! Don't tell me you've come for a charm to put under your pillow, to make the marriage fruitful, for I don't deal in such nonsense."

"Nothing superstitious. I've come for advice, or information, rather."

"Information! Well, if you don't mind dirtying your pretty hands, you can help me plant these herbs, and I'll tell you everything I know."

"I love planting," Marian said with enthusiam, touched by a dose of nervousness.

Dropping to her knees beside the healer, Marian used a rock to dig a hole in the earth, loosen the soil, and plant a row of small chamomile seedlings. Her obvious joy in doing so made Matilda say, "You're welcome every spring, to help me plant my herbal garden! Rosa hates to plant."

"How is Rosa? And Baby Alice?"

"They're well. But you didn't leave your handsome man's side to ask me about my daughter! Out with it! Tell me what you want to know."

Marian studied the ground, almost regretting she'd come. But her courage, as usual, didn't fail her. Looking up to meet the older woman's piercing gaze, she blurted out, "Can a woman be with child, even if her monthly cycle still continues?"

Matilda smiled knowingly. "It can happen. Why? I thought you told me you couldn't have a child."

"That's what Djaq said she _believed._ But Robin said, anything is possible, and with him, anything almost always is!"

"So, you think you may be carrying his child, even though you had your cycle recently."

Marian nodded her head. "I hope so," she sighed.

"When did you last have your cycle?"

"A few weeks ago. Almost three."

"Was it what you're accustomed to?"

"It was lighter. Much lighter. More like spotting."

"How many days did it last?"

"Only three."

"And it usually lasts...?"

"Five."

Matilda continued her planting, hiding the wise smile playing about her lips. So! She just might be able to deliver a child of the lovely boy she'd delivered, twenty-six years before. And with such a breathtakingly beautiful mother, what a pretty baby it would be!

"You told me you were once expecting before. Are your symptoms the same now as they were then?"

Marian appeared crestfallen. "Not exactly. I was sicker then. I remember throwing up. And my breasts were more tender."

"That's the true sign...tenderness in your breasts. That, of course, and missing your courses."

"Well, they're somewhat tender," Marian replied, losing hope again.

Matilda smiled up at her. "Take heart, lass! If it's meant to be, it's meant to be! And I have a feeling, Robin will defeat the odds and find a way."

"But I want to know now! I want to be carrying his child!"

"Stop that!" Matilda barked. "What? You don't think you're enough for him?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I do! Look in his eyes, the next time they rest on you! That ought to give you your answer! I've never seen a man so wholeheartedly in love, as Robin of Locksley is with you. And it's never ending, my dear. You need to count your blessings, and appreciate the love you've been given. If a child or two comes of it, so much the better! But stop dwelling on it, and let nature take its course. That's my advice to you, Pretty One."

Marian looked ashamed. "You're right," she said quietly. "I've been a fool."

"What woman in love isn't?" Matilda replied, consolingly. "Now, you need to get ready for your wedding! I've been invited, and I expect a celebration to top all celebrations! After all, we've waited years to see the two of you lovelies clasp hands and be joined together as man and wife."

"We already are, you know," Marian reminded her.

"Ha! Tell that to the people of your village! Until they witness it themselves, they'll never believe it. Now go! Go get ready, but wash your hands in this water first! You've been planting chamomile, my dear, and its known to cause miscarriages. I wouldn't want you to lose Robin's lovely little baby, before you're even sure it's growing within you."

"Is it? Please, tell me!"

Matilda clicked her tongue. "I thought I told you not to worry over it. You'll just have to wait and see. You'll know soon enough! But don't overdo on the wine at your wedding, do you hear me? It's not good for your little lad, or lassie."

Marian sighed in frustration. Why couldn't she just know now?


	89. Chapter 89

"Master Robin! The king is here!"

Robin rose from the table to calm his servants and greet King Richard, who was apparently paying an impromptu visit to Locksley. He was pleased by the king's visit, less so by his servants' reactions. Years under Guy of Gisbourne's tyranny had made them highly strung, nervous, and fearful. Robin hated to think what a state of nerves Much would be, had he stayed behind in Locksley.

"Robin!"

King Richard strode into the manor, seeming to fill it with his golden presence.

"Your Majesty, it's truly an honor to welcome you to Locksley."

"No formalities, Robin, not today. I come as your friend, not your king. In fact, I've come to give you a wedding present! What would you like?"

Robin's smile shone like sunshine breaking through clouds. "I suggest you ask my bride, Your Majesty. Once she's here with me, I'll have everything I want."

"No. I want to be generous with you. You alone, of all the men who've served me, deserve my honor, regard, and respect."

Richard glanced at the curious faces of the servants surrounding them, and asked, "Have any of you ever heard what your master did at Acre?"

Only Thornton had the courage to answer the king. "We know Your Majesty named him a hero, and awarded him medals. Much tried to explain, but his stories were jumbled, and confusing, which is not unusual for him."

The king smiled broadly. "It's no wonder. There are so many feats to tell, including saving my life! But I specifically want to tell you about the siege."

He paused, enjoying the memory. "The siege of Acre had been going on for two years, under the embarrassing leadership of Guy de Lusignan. King Philip of France arrived before me, for my fleet was delayed enroute. Tell them, Robin, what took us so long to arrive!"

"Rescuing Your Majesty's sister, storms at sea-"

"Terrible storms at sea, that divided our fleet and wrecked five of our ships! We lost every man onboard those vessels. But continue, Robin!"

Several of the servants crossed themselves, and all silently thanked God their beloved master had not been onboard one of those doomed ships.

"Another war in Cyprus, His Majesty's wedding-"

"Correction. I married the queen and fought the war at the same time. Not exactly an ideal honeymoon for such a tender young bride, but she voiced no complaints. And then, we finally made it to Acre, where Robin grew as impatient as myself at the intolerable slowness of the campaign."

Robin remembered being cooked alive in his chainmail in the July desert heat, waiting about for a Saracen to show his face on the city walls so he could take a shot at him, while trebuchets hurtled stones at the Accursed Tower. Few of the knights waiting with him were skilled archers. In fact, most resented being handed crossbows, believing such weapons beneath them, even though the king proved himself an expert marksman.

He hated going back to Acre in his mind. He tried everything he could, every day, to block out the memories. But the king wanted him to talk, to tell what he'd done.

"I didn't like waiting," Robin explained. "I didn't think we were getting anywhere. So, I took up my bow and as many arrows as would fit in my quiver, and charged the city walls."

He couldn't tell them he was hurt and angry, outraged by a Saracen soldier who'd killed a friend of his, then taunted them by flaunting himself in the young man's armor.

The king proudly took up the story. "The Saracens named your master 'The Mad Archer.' At first, they appeared enmasse over the city walls, shooting at this brash young warrior. And evey time one of them lifted his bow, he dropped to his death, before any of my men could aim their crossbows. Robin here shot them all, killed them, and kept up his mad dance until he ran out of arrows. And then, he went back for more. He depleted their sentires, making it possible for my army to enter the city. And once inside, he proved himself nearly as deadly with the sword as he was with the bow."

Robin didn't see the proud looks on his servants' faces. The memory of the bloodbath that was the Battle of Acre still haunted his dreams, try as he might to forget it.

_Never again, _he reminded himself. _All battles are finished, now that the king has returned. Now, I can truly begin living the life that was meant to be mine, with Marian beside me._

"I know what I want, Your Majesty," Robin spoke up, breaking through his horrific memories of war.

"Ah, yes, the wedding present! Don't be stingy with yourself, for I do not intend to be!"

"I ask one thing. That you bestow knighthoods on my men."

The king was silent. When he spoke again, it was clear he was trying to master his displeasure.

"I want to give _you _something, Robin! It is like you, to think of others, and I love you for it. But I am prepared to offer you anything, anything, so long as you'll continue to serve me."

"I will serve you, Your Majesty!" Robin exclaimed, loyal forevermore to his golden warrior king. "But I want nothing for myself, other than the right to live again in my own house, among my own people, with the woman I love as my wife. But my men have served England well in your absence. If you searched your entire kingdom, end to end, you couldn't find braver, truer, more loyal companions than Much, Will Scarlet, Allan a Dale, or Little John. And if Djaq weren't a woman, I'd insist you knight her, too. She's earned it. They've all earned it."

"Knighthoods cost money, Robin. Where do you suppose I can find the money to pay for knighthoods for your friends, after financing a holy war, and paying my ransom? God's legs, my own mother sold her own jewels! No. It's out of the question. Ask me for something else. More lands, more titles, the position of my royal justicar, anything!"

"Knighthoods, and the stopping of all taxes. And the revoking of the unjust forestry laws."

"You jest."

"I do not joke. You said yourself there is no money. No one has any more to give. Let the people begin trading again. Let the money grow, then you can begin to tax them, but fairly."

"I begin to think the Saracens were right. You are mad."

"And as for the forestry laws," Robin continued, passionately, "what sense do they make, allowing only the priviledged to freely hunt game in the forest, while the people who can't afford to buy a piece of meat are forbidden? They aren't even permitted to gather wood for their fires, in a forest of trees! I'm not mad, Your Majesty. With respect, the one who chooses to enforce such tyranny deserves that title."

"You dare to call your king mad, 'with respect'?"

"I'm only asking you to recognize the unjustness of the law, and revoke it."

"Only? Only? Your duty is to obey the law, not to forge it! My father warned me you'd be dangerous! A dreamer, he called you. No. No. You do not play God with me!"

"There is nothing else I want, Your Majesty."

The king stopped his pacing, and breathed out a long, heavy sigh. "Robin, I forgive you. I should have known you, of all men, would ask for nothing for yourself. I will look into the matter of taxes, and the Conqueror's forestry laws."

"Thank you, Your Majesty! And knighthoods, for my men?"

"That is impossible. If you want to raise up peasants, you must look to provide for them yourself. Now, I will leave you to prepare for tomorrow's festivities. I trust I will see you tonight, at my banquet? In spite of your rejection, I do have something in mind to bestow on you. I'll wager your lady won't be so quick to reject a king's generosity!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I don't deserve your friendship."

"You deserve it, and more. Godspeed, Robin, until tonight!"


	90. Chapter 90

"You're looking so big, Djaq, you're nearly as fat as Friar Tuck! Why, your baby's probably going to come out as big as Little John! Oh! Sorry! I shouldn't have said that!"

Much was reacting to Will's angry glare, while Robin and most of his gang visited together at the start of the king's banquet.

"It's alright," Djaq kindly assured the overly anxious Lord Bonchurch. "It is true, I am enormous."

"Have you thought of a name?" Robin asked.

"We're calling him Daniel, if its a boy," Will said, proudly.

"And what, for a girl? 'Much?' " Allan joked.

"Very funny!"

Princess Johanna, looking lovely in a golden gown, approached to interrupt the friendly conversation. "Excuse me," she said, "but I crave a word alone with your leader."

All Robin's men bowed their heads and stepped aside, with the exception of Much, who had to be tugged away by Allan.

"I have a few complaints to voice about your men," Johanna began, flirtatiously.

Robin chuckled. "What did Allan do now?"

"It isn't only Allan, though he did break Aimee's heart, by moving on to other women."

"I'm sorry. What can I do?"

"No need for concern. Aimee rather enjoys having her heart broken! The minute she grows bored with her grief, she'll find another suitor to amuse her. No. I was referring to Little John! You never told me he was such a favorite with my mother!"

"Trust me, it came as quite a surprise to him, as well! You're not truly bothered, are you?"

"By Maman? Never! She deserves some fun, after being kept prisoner by my father all those years!"

Drinking in Robin's handsome face and form, Johanna's emerald green eyes began to glitter. "I hope you'll dance with me, at least once tonight! You were quite cruel, to disappear so quickly last night."

"Marian wasn't well. She's better now, Djaq tells me. And so, it will be an honor and a pleasure to dance with you."

"Good! You shouldn't make me ask, you know! I wouldn't have to, except...it's you."

Johanna hadn't meant to do this again, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. Twice in her past she'd flung aside her dignity and begged him to take her, and twice he'd refused. She'd promised herself, never again, but now, standing so close, she found herself irrestibly drawn to him.

"Robin," she began desperately, all trace of flirtatiousness gone, "tomorrow's your wedding! Tonight's the last chance we have, to be together!"

Robin took a step backwards. "Please, Your Highness," he began, firmly, "don't do this."

"I can't seem to help it! Please! Just one night! Please, Robin!"

"I'm married. So are you. What's more, I love my wife. You don't mean this, Your Highness. Let's step apart, and forget it ever happened."

Johanna turned her face away, biting her lips. Once she managed to recover her self assurance, she turned back to face him. "Of course," she said, tragically cold and distant. "I wish you every happiness in your marriage."

"Thank you. I hope you'll find happiness, too. I have always valued your friendship."

_Why did he have to be so sincere?_ It physically hurt, how badly she wanted him!

The uncomfortable moment was broken by the appearance of Marian, at the top of the stairs. Robin hadn't seen her enter, but his attention was drawn to her when the sound of Blondel's lute crashing to the floor made everybody stop and look.

It was no wonder the dewy eyed minstrel had dropped his lute. Marian looked stunningly beautiful, and extremely tempting, in a tight fitting, low cut, crimson colored gown.

Unable to take his eyes off the alluring vision at the top of the stairs, Robin forgot everything that had just transpired between himself and the princess, and rushed to Marian's side.

Her cheeks colored slightly, with so many eyes focusing on her.

"I wasn't sure what to wear," Marian confided to her husband, as he led her down the staircase. "I have so few formal gowns, since Gisbourne burned my house. This one's not too...?"

"It's perfect," Robin told her, passionately. "You look beautiful."

"I've only worn it once, because I had to, to lure Count Friedrick. I wish people would stop staring."

"They can't help it. Like I said, you're beautiful. I've missed you. I need to kiss you, Marian."

She started to laugh. "Because of my gown?"

"Because of you. I love you. How are you feeling?"

"Much better. I haven't grown faint once. I suppose it was just my humors out of balance." She sighed sadly.

"What's wrong, my love? Come on, let's get out of here!"

"But, the banquet! Robin, I only just arrived!"

"You're unhappy about something. I want to hear what it is, if you'll tell me."

"It's nothing. But I wouldn't mind disappearing for a moment, since you 'need' to kiss me."

"I do. I swear I do."

"Alright then. Lead the way."

Princess Johanna watched them exit under an archway, then bitterly drained a cup of wine. "More wine," she commanded a servant, disregarding Djaq's advice that expectant mothers needed to refrain from such liquids during pregnancy.

Alone in a darkened corridor, Robin's mouth was hot and demanding as he kissed Marian again and again. His hands roamed eagerly over her body's curves, exploring them through her gown.

Marian's passion rose to meet his. "I shouldn't have worn this dress!" she said at last, as Robin's mouth moved hungrily over her, devouring her neck, shoulders, and breasts.

"I told you," he breathed between nips and kisses, "it's not the gown, it's you. Take it off, and I'll prove it."

A loud clearing of the throat stopped their passionate play, and they jumped apart, discovered.

"I knew you two would be up to something again!" Much scolded. "Please! Can't you wait one more day, until you're officially man and wife?"

"We _are _officially man and wife, Much," Robin reminded him. "You witnessed our marriage."

"Yes. Well, I suppose. I witnessed both of them, if you recall, and cried both times! So, I'm not exactly looking forward to tomorrow!"

"You're my best man! You'd better be wearing a smile."

Marian smoothed her skirts, embarrassed and irritated by Much's presence. She could never understand how Robin could shift so quickly and enjoy the typical banter he and Much often engaged in, after being interrupted from such intensely passionate embraces.

"I'm going in," she said, walking past them, being sure to bump against Robin's shoulder on her way.

"What's Marian mad about?" Much innocently asked.

Robin only snickered. "Come on," he invited. "The king's about to give me a wedding present!"


	91. Chapter 91

Marian, graciously trying to hide her boredom while dancing with the minstrel Blondel, pretended to listen as he tried his hardest to impress her.

"Robin Hood isn't the only man worthy of a troubadour's ballad, fair lady," he bragged to her. "I myself have done deeds worthy to win a maiden's heart."

Marian's love of debate made her ask, "Can deeds truly win a lady? Or is it something else?"

Blondel ignored her questions. "I would I could sing you my tale! But alas! I have yet to compose it."

"Perhaps you should wait then," she suggested, wishing the dance would hurry up and finish.

"Have you heard how I single handedly rescued the king?" he asked, sure that his story would make her fall head over heels in love with him, as he was with her.

"You...rescued King Richard?" Marian had to bite her lips to keep from laughing.

The minstrel looked anything but a warrior. Although he sported a rather handsome face, he looked weak and effeminant, with pale hair falling in ringlets past his shoulders. His voice and musical talent were unmistakable, but as for being able to rescue Lionheart...! That really would be a tale worth hearing!

"I did," he boasted, lying. "I wandered, a lonely, solitary figure across the Alps, searching everywhere for my captured king! Beneath every castle wall, I sang a tune, known only to the king and myself, hoping against hope that he would somehow hear me and be cheered, knowing a friend and loyal subject was closeby."

"That sounds very...loyal," Marian responded, trying to be kind.

"At last, one glorious day, when I sang my song, I heard a voice answer me back, singing the next refrain! I had found the king, imprisoned in a castle in Germany! With no thought to my own safety, I scaled the castle walls, and rescued him!"

"I thought he stood trial, and talked his way to freedom, along with paying a ransom, of course. At least, that's what a friend of mine who witnessed it wrote to me."

Marian was surprised when the minstrel broke down sobbing.

"I'm sorry!" she quickly told him. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings! You must be having a hard evening, with your lute breaking and everything."

" 'Tis naught," he replied, his tone so sorrowful, he could be performing a Greek tragedy. "Naught, I say, compared to my broken heart!"

Marian shot Robin a look, her eyes imploring him to rescue her. But he only raised his wine chalice and winked back at her, smirking. Her eyes flashed fire.

"Maid Marian," Blondel gushed, "save me from my deepest despair, and say you won't go through with tomorrow's ceremony!"

"Believe me, I just might not," Marian said, pitching her voice loud enough for Robin to hear.

And what did her cocky husband do, upon hearing her? He had the audacity to laugh out loud! _How dare you? I'll show you, Locksley! _

Marian wasn't sure why she felt so tense and irritated. Lately, her emotions had been stronger and more changeable than before, like a young girl's entering adolescence. She didn't understand why, but she did understand, she wanted to make Robin pay.

The question was how. Perhaps, she could persuade Much to sing tonight, under Robin's window!

But Blondel was gushing again. "You might not?" he cried, exuberant with joy. "Then I have reason to hope! Fair lady, I must confess, for our time together runs short! You have slain me! Slain me with your incomparable beauty! Come, Maid Marian, fairer than Queen Helen herself! Ride away with me on my steed, and I shall sing you lullabies, such as you've never heard before!"

"I have never heard such _dribble_ before, that's certain," Marian told him, not caring now whether she'd make him cry or not. "And believe me, I have listened to more than my fair share of dribble!"

At last, Robin appeared by her side. "Having a little trouble?" he asked, smirking so cockily Marian wanted to kick him.

"Nothing I can't handle on my own, thank you," she answered, smiling through clenched teeth.

"Knave!" Blondel cried, pointing a bony finger at Robin. "Cur! Rascally outlaw, unfit to wed this heavenly goddess! Begone!"

"Interesting dance partner, Marian," Robin smirked, his eyes twinkling with fun. "A man with a spine of steel. From the looks of him, I'd wager you could beat him at arm wrestling."

"He has a beautiful voice, and composes lovely songs," she shot back, knowing she was beaten.

"I'll give him one thing," Robin allowed, wearing his attractive, boyish grin. "He has an eye for beauty."

The wink he threw at Marian was irrestible. She rolled her eyes, then found herself smiling back at him. "Why aren't you dancing tonight, Locksley?" she asked.

"Because you were otherwise engaged," he told her.

Blondel realized his hopes were trampled, in the face of so much masculine charm. "Excuse me," he tragically announced. "I shall go look for a rope, with which to hang myself!"

"I can't believe a man like King Richard keeps such a fool around," Marian gasped, after the minstrel had slunk away.

"He's as talented as he is fooish," Robin explained, glad to be close to her again. "Dance with me and I'll tell you the tale he concocted, of how he rescued the king from his German prison."

"No thank you. I just heard it. Tell me instead about your day."

With his natural charm and flair for storytelling, Robin delighted her by making the events he had lived that day sound extraordinarily amusing, restoring her cheerful mood.

"Only one more night apart," she sighed, gazing lovingly up at him.

Robin hid his disappointment. The way she had kissed him in the corridor made him believe their waiting was over. After all, she wasn't ill anymore.

"Do we have to be apart?" he asked.

"I think so. I know it's silly, but all my life, I dreamed of marrying you at Locksley. And part of that dream was waking up alone on our wedding day, knowing we'd be awakening side by side every day after."

He kissed her gently, lovingly. "That's a beautiful dream, Marian," he sighed.

He could feel her ring beneath his shirt, and couldn't wait to surprise her and slip it on her finger during the wedding. His heart swelled with love for her, and he wondered if he'd ever be as happy again, as he felt this moment.

But the king was beckoning him to join him, ready to bestow his generous gift.

"Come, my love," Robin said gently, his eyes shining with adoration towards his beautiful bride. "The king wants us."

Hand in hand, Robin and Marian approached King Richard. All present in the Great Hall fell silent, waiting expectantly for the king to bestow his gift.

King Richard's generosity was almost as famous as his valour on the battlefield, for he was as generous as his brother John was greedy. What incredible gift would he give the legendary outlaw Robin Hood, champion of the poor?

The king's deep, regal voice spoke at last, while he looked fondly as Robin and Marian kneeled before him.

"As you know," the king proclaimed, "I have already freely pardoned Robin of Locksley and all his associates, restoring his lands and titles to him. Tomorrow, I will give away the bride, Lady Marian, at the wedding ceremony in the Locksley village church."

Enthusiastic applause erupted, and the king smiled and waited patiently for it to subside. "All is well again in England, and I am happy to be home."

More applause, coupled with cheers rang out.

"But," the king cautioned, "not everything is well within my kingdom! Philip of France threatens my holdings on the continent! Believing his destiny is to restore France to her glory days under Charlemagne, he cowardly fled the Holy Land to return home, so he could wage war against me while I was far away!"

Loud booing now replaced the people's cheers, and Robin, feeling a sense of dread, sought Marian's eyes. Her beautiful blue ones reflected his confusion and alarm.

The king silenced his audience by raising his hand. "We've no need to fear Philip, do we? We welcome his invitation to fight! For I do not stand alone! With Robin of Locksley at my side, I'll send that French coward back to Paris, and leave such a trail of blood he'll never again dare to set foot outside his city's walls!"

Most of the crowd raised a cheer so enthusiastic, it echoed throughout the castle. But Robin, Marian, and his men, remained silent.

"What are you saying, Your Majesty?" Robin asked at last, too stunned to grasp his king's meaning.

"I'm saying, as much as I'd like to remain in England, I must leave these shores again. And I am asking you, truest, bravest, and noblest of men, to serve me as Captain of my Private Guard once again! Arise, Robin Of Locksley, Earl of Huntington! This is the gift I bestow upon you! The honor to fight at my side, and save my kingdom!"

...

**(Note: Blondel's story of rescuing King Richard is a well known legend. Also, King Philip of France really did believe his destiny was to be another Charlemagne, even though he was no brave warrior, even being afraid of horses! But he left the Holy Land as soon as the Battle of Acre was finished, to return home to take advantage of Richard's absence, and try to recapture Anjou, Normandy, Brittany, and Aquitaine, for France. Richard only stayed in England a few short months, before travelling to France and fighting that war. He held onto his kingdoms, but was mistakenly shot in the shoulder and died from the arrow wound's infection. Then, King John managed to lose all the lands in France to King Philip.) **


	92. Chapter 92

Marian felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Years seemed to roll away, and she felt herself once again the hurt, angry, bewildered seventeen-year-old girl, listening to the nineteen-year-old boy she loved destroy all her hopes and dreams by announcing he was leaving her to do battle in a distant, foreign land.

Tears stung her eyes, and she couldn't look at him. When she felt his hand reach and grab one of hers, she pulled her own away with such force it slammed her in the chest.

As if through a fog, she heard Robin's voice saying, "I will handle this, Marian. Trust me."

"No. No," she breathed, still not willing to meet his eyes. "I can't trust you."

The fog grew denser, swirling around her, so that she couldn't make out the floorboards or the lacings on her gown. The last thing she knew, before passing out unconscious, were Robin's strong arms catching her and his voice crying out in alarm, "Djaq!"

...

Only half convinced that Marian had fainted from shock, and not from the lingering effects of her recent "illness," Robin stayed by her side until he was certain she was fully revived, and feeling strong. Once she had recovered, he began to pace.

Little John had moved her to a private room, where Robin waited anxiously while Djaq attended her. Revived, Marian still refused to look him in the eye, even after he begged her, "Look at me! Look at me!" It wasn't until he said, "I won't leave you, Marian. I won't leave our people," that she lifted her eyes to his.

"Really?" she asked, sounding remarkably childlike.

"I swear it."

"Robin...!" His name caught in her throat, and he rushed to her bedside, dropped to his knees, and pressed his lips against her forehead. Discreetly, Djaq exited the room.

Somewhere between a laugh and a cry, Robin told her, "This reminds me of the time I admitted to you I'd made a mistake, leaving you for glory, remember? You were flat on your back then, too."

"You almost told me you loved me," she recalled.

"I did say it, when it was too late, and I thought you were..."

It hurt too much to finish the thought.

"You did?" Marian asked, feeling her heart tighten with unspeakable joy. "You mean, you told me you loved me, in the cave? I thought it was months later, just a slip of your tongue, because you were 'half concussed'!"

"I'll tell you now, again. I love you, Marian. I'll never stop loving you."

"I love you, Robin."

She scooted over to make room for him beside her. He lay down, took her in his arms, and held her lovingly, protectively against him.

They allowed themselves the luxury of near silence. Only the pounding of their hearts against each other's chests disturbed the stillness, but the sound only added to the beauty of the moment.

Marian wished she had longer to lie in his arms and feel his hand gently stroking her hair. But life would not wait. The king would not wait.

"What will you tell him?" she asked.

Robin's tone was firm. "The truth," was all he said.

"How will he take it?"

Robin laughed unpleasantly. "Hard," he answered.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself away and sat up. "Well then, you'd better get it over with."

He leaned up on his elbows, studying her. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, concerned about her health. "It wasn't just your humors out of balance, was it?"

"I'm fine," she insisted. "It was just the shock, that's all."

Rising from the bed, he leaned over and kissed her. "I've never known you to be so squeamish before, Wren, except..."

He paused, his mouth dropping open, then slowly stretching to a smile.

"What?" Marian asked.

"Just a hunch," he grinned. "Never mind. Get some rest. I'll send in Djaq, to make sure you're alright."

"Djaq's the one who needs rest, not me." Stepping from the bed, she put her arms around his neck and lifted her face to be kissed.

The kiss, as always when coming from him, was wonderful, tender and exciting, warm and loving.

"Good luck," she told him, just before he left to speak privately with the king.


	93. Chapter 93

"I trust your lady is better?" the king asked Robin, more from politeness than concern, when the earl returned to the Great Hall.

"Seems to be, Your Majesty," Robin answered. "Thank you."

"Come, Robin! You and I will retire to a private room, to discuss the offer I made you."

Following the king to a place of privacy, Robin's feelings were mixed. He welcomed this opportunity to give the king his answer, while despairing at the thought of disappointing his sovereign. Catching a glimpse of Much's worried, bulging eyes, he attempted to assure his anxious, loyal friend that everything would be alright, with a grin. Yet over everything, hope reigned. Hope soared in his heart, at the prospect that Marian might possibly be carrying his child.

...

"So, Robin," the king began pleasantly, once they were alone, "what do you think of my gift?"

Before the archer a chance to answer, King Richard clapped him on the back and boisterously proclaimed, "The brotherhood of the battlefield! Sometimes, it's stronger even than blood ties! In our case, Robin, it's far stronger. Yet, even before you fought by my side in Outremer, I loved you more than any of my brothers. I tell you, Robin, there is no other man in my entire kingdom, whom I love or trust, more than you."

"I am honored, Your Majesty."

"What happened, though, Robin? What happened after Acre? Were you already touched by a twinge of that fever, that almost took your life?"

"I don't understand, Sire."

"I think you do. You were an unstoppable force on the battlefield, and then, suddenly, you lost your taste for bloodshed. Don't get me wrong. You continued to fight valiantly, and served me exceedingly well, but you weren't the same warrior who braved the Saracens, when we broke through Acre's walls. After the massacre, you changed."

Robin took a deep, steadying breath. He hated resurrecting these memories, shoved down deep into the darkest corners of his soul. "I learned the Saracens were people, too," he answered, with passion. "Men with mothers, fathers, wives and children. Men who would bravely die for their god, just as I was willing to die for mine."

"They are a noble race, no question," Richard agreed, nonchalantly. "I hold Salah Al Din and his brother Al Adil in the highest esteem. Never have I faced more worthy adversaries. But what think you of my offer? Brothers in arms, again! Together, we'll send that coward Philip fleeing back to Paris!"

Robin felt the best way to break the bad news was to hold nothing back. "As deeply honored as I am by your faith in me, Your Majesty, I must decline your offer."

Richard didn't believe he'd heard his friend correctly. "What?" he asked, with a harsh laugh. "Tell me I didn't hear you deny me, Locksley."

"I will not follow you to France, Sire. What's more, I ask you not to go."

"Not go?" Richard was so amazed, he could barely speak. "God's legs, man, what are you suggesting? That I let Philip take whatever he wants of my kingdom? Steal my inheritance from under my thumb, while I sit back and do nothing?"

"England needs you, Your Majesty. You have no idea how her people have suffered in your absence! Stay here, help her regain her strength, then cross the channel and secure your Angevin holdings."

"As we speak, Philip is already plundering my lands! And you ask me to stay in England, because her people are hurting?"

"They are _your_ people, Sire."

"And I am your king. I am asking you, Robin, to fight alongside me. Because of the love I bear you, I am asking, when I could command."

"And because of the love I bear my country, and my wife, I am honor bound to refuse."

Robin was well acquainted with Richard's infamous Angevin temper. Like all the sons of Henry II, Richard had inherited his father's explosive disposition.

Unlike most men, Robin of Locksley did not fear the king's displeasure. Instead, he was grieved to have caused it. More than most men, Robin embraced the ideals of duty, honor, and chivalry, truly striving to live his life by them. He owed his king his allegiance. Blinded by the glorious valiant image Richard projected, he truly regarded King Richard as the embodiment of Chivalry. What's more, he liked, respected, and revered the generous, reckless, noble man who wore the crown.

Richard's rage burned white hot. Striving to control his tongue, he remained silent, seething. Robin did not help matters by sadly saying, "Your Majesty, if England were attacked, my men and I would be the first to take up arms to protect and defend her. But don't ask me to leave my people, nor the woman I love, to fight a battle I do not believe in, when there's so much need for me here at home. You still have no idea what Prince John did to your nation."

"John is not the issue here!" Richard exploded. "You continue to harp on my little brother, as though he were a criminal, when he was only misguided! God damn you to hell, Locksley! You _will _take up your bow, your sword, and your lance, and fight with me! I need you, Robin! I need you!"

"With respect, Your Majesty, but your need is small, compared to the needs of my village, my wife, and my country. You must not leave England so soon, when you can send Mercadier, and your Norman Captains, to lead the charge across the channel."

Richard pursed his lips so tightly, they went white. His only answer to Robin's plea, was to shout for his guards.

"Throw Locksley in the dungeon," he ordered. "He's no stranger to its cells." Turning viciously upon the man he loved above all others, he bellowed, "You can stew down there among the vermin, until you're ready to change your mind!"

The guards obediantly led Robin away, down the castle steps, until they reached the dungeon.

"Where should we put him?" one guard asked his commander. "The cells are full of traitors, awaiting the king's orders for execution."

"Put him in here," the commander decided. "This one's empty, but for one man."

"Sorry, my lord," a young guard who admired Robin begged.

Robin, stunned by the unexpected turn of events, managed a slight smile. "It's alright," he told the guard. "Like the king said, I'm no stranger here."

The cell door slammed shut, and was locked. Robin breathed out a long, heavy sigh.

"Now what?" he asked himself, raking his hand through his hair while his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

A voice coming from a darkened corner of his cell made him grit his teeth, shake his head, and finally laugh at life's irony. "Oh!" it cried, excitedly. "So, Little Robin Red Breast! Roommates at last, hmm? I hope you don't mind sharing a bed! Oh, this is good! Good! Very good!"


	94. Chapter 94

"Well, well, well! If it isn't my old friend, Little Hoodie Two Shoes! You're looking remarkably delectable, dressed in your finery!"

"This old thing?" Robin smirked, playing along with Vaisey's taunting. "Wait till you see me in my wedding suit tomorrow! Oh, that's right. You won't be there. You'll still be rotting away, here."

"And either way, whether they let you out or not, you'll be in prison! I hardly know which is worse, hmm? Locked in a dungeon cell, or a prisoner of your own doing, married to a leper. What happened, Hood, hmm? Couldn't stay out of trouble, even for a few days?"

"Trouble has a way of finding me."

"A clue...no. You court it, my friend."

"Not this time."

"Then what happened, hmm? Did pretty little Hoodie make his beloved King Richard angry? The Lionheart's making quite a habit of punishing you, isn't he, Hood, hmm? Too bad there's no hot desert sun to bake you all crispy brown, this time!"

"You leave the king out of this."

"Why? He's responsible for your little visit to my cell, isn't he? But if he wants to punish you, I could share with him some delightful methods! Oh, yes! Yes! Many's the night I sent myself drifting blissfully off to sleep, dreaming up all the things I'd like to do to you!"

Robin chose not to answer, trying instead to think up a plan concerning what he should do.

Sheriff Vaisey drew nearer and began circling him, like some ferocious big cat of the East, stalking its prey. "Oh, very good!" he crowed. "Your tight little butt cheeks look just as saucy as ever, packed in your new, snug fitting trousers! Oh, yes! This is good! This is good! And just think, Hood, there's only one small cot for us to share! Quite an improvement for you, isn't it, from the accomodations I used to throw you in! I trust you haven't forgotten your stay in my Pit of Hell, hmm?"

"It was Heaven, compared to this. Make no mistake, Vaisey, I'm not sleeping in a bed, with you."

"Oh, we won't be sleeping."

Robin nearly choked. Recovering, he managed to accuse, "I always guessed you were sick, even more than your murderous ways proved. Why so obvious now, Vaisey?"

"Because, Hood, I have nothing to lose. But I always prided myself on hiding my...desires. What made your clever little head guess the truth, hmm?"

Robin swallowed, uncomfortable by the discussion. "I've seen the looks you gave me on other faces, ever since I turned fourteen. But none of them wore more hair on their chins, than on the top of their heads."

Wetting his fingers, Vaisey smoothed the little triangle of hair on his forehead. "Oh, very good! Fourteen! You don't say. Such a tender young age! I'll bet you were _really_ a pretty boy then!"

"It was better than being as ugly as sin."

"Oh! Robin! You wound me! A clue...no. I know you prefer the opulent curves on Marian, to my-"

"Don't you mention her name, you murdering swine!"

Unable to control his temper, Robin rushed the sheriff and knocked him to the ground. Straddling his body, he held him forcefully down while seething through clenched teeth, "What's going to stop me from killing you now, Vaisey? Prince John's armies aren't here to burn Nottingham any more, are they?"

"Don't hurt me!" Vaisey screamed, scared, yet secretly thrilled to be lying under Hood's strong young body. "Let me go!"

"Why should I?"

"Because, Robin, you're not the killing kind!"

"I'll make an exception, in your case."

"No, my friend, no! Think this through! You don't want to kill me! You want to join me, and together, we can escape this vile cell! We'll be partners, equals! We'll make a fine team, Robin, a fine team! We'll go France, and catch Gisbourne! Why, I might even let you kill him! Won't that be fun, hmm? Come now, Locksley, let me go."

_Locksley!_ The mention of his village brought Robin back to his senses. Tomorrow, if the king freed him, he'd be saying his marriage vows to Marian, with his entire village in attendance, to share their joy.

What was he doing? The king would come to his senses and let him go free, he was sure, and give Vaisey the just death he deserved. Shaking himself awake from his own fit of rage, he released the former sheriff and leaped to his feet.

...

Princess Johanna, having learned where Robin was, was taking her brother to task.

"You did what?" she demanded.

"This is none of your concern, Joan," Richard fumed. "I won't be lectured by my sister, like some henpecked husband, cowering from his scolding fishwife!"

"Speaking of wives, where's yours? Why haven't you sent for her?"

"That is also none of your concern!"

"Why not? I love her like a blood sister, not just a sister-in-law. There's never been a more dutiful wife than Garia, and you know it! You ought to do your duty to her, and bring her here to serve as Queen over your kingdom! But, no. Of course, you lost no time wisking that little slut Anna Komnenos to the nearest flea infested alpine inn, once you were freed from your chains!"

"Enough! When you manage to live in harmony with your husband, I'll let you lecture me about marital fidelity. Until then, I'll thank you to hold your tongue."

"Let Robin go," Johanna demanded. "He's done nothing, his entire life, but serve you honorably."

"Then why does he refuse to serve me now?"

"Have you asked him?"

"You know Robin. He told me. He's another one who has no fear, lecturing his king. It's a pity you two never got together."

"It wasn't for lack of trying on my part, believe me. But tell me. What did he say?"

"He claims England needs me."

Johanna laughed. "What a treasonous thing to say! Imagine, a country needing its king! No wonder you locked him in the dungeon. You remind me of Johnny."

"Not that, please, Joan. Perhaps I was overly harsh. But I want him to join me in battle. Of every man I've ever fought beside, there's none I love or trust so well. Or admire."

"I echo your sentiments, though I'll substitute a moonlit garden or a dance floor for your gory battlefield. But understand Robin, brother! He has ties here that are stronger than all the love he bears you. Don't forget, his family's ruled over his lands centuries before ours even thought about sailing from Normandy to conquer this foggy island. And his wife! Have you seen how he looks at her? Theirs is a legendary love for the ages, Richard! Though you, battle hardened soldier whom you are, probably can't understand that."

"You're right, I can't. But I can understand bravery, loyalty, and honor, and no one embodies them more than Robin of Locksley. Alright! I suppose I'll have to have all the fun of chasing off Philip, without Robin's comraderie. After all, someone's got to stay here and keep an eye out for Johnny's tricks. I'll send a guard to free him. Think what a scold his wife would be, if he were late for their wedding! I'll wager she could even give you lessons!"


	95. Chapter 95

Trying to fight off a nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong, Marian lay tossing and turning on her bed.

It wasn't prewedding jitters that robbed her of her sleep. She was already a happily married wife, after all! It was something else, something dark and threatening, an overwhelming sense that Robin was in danger.

Marian grew irritated and impatient with herself for having these feelings, for she knew Robin was safe, no longer an outlaw, his lands and titles restored to him. She needed to shake them off and get a restful night's sleep, so she could look and feel her best for her wedding.

"Stop being ridiculous," she scolded herself, then breathed a sigh of relief, all her worries melting away, when she heard Robin's voice in the darkness saying, "Sorry, my love! But is it really so ridiculous to sneak in here, one last time, to kiss you goodnight?"

Smiling, she sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, to be that much nearer to him. He ran to close the few steps separating them, clasped her joyfully in his arms, and together, kissing, they fell backwards on the bed.

Three or four kisses later, they pulled apart to smile into each other's eyes. "I think I'll add a new vow for you to say tomorrow, Marian," he teased. "How about you promising to always greet me that warmly, when I've been away?"

"I was worried about you," she explained, earnestly, letting her fingertips play in the curls on the nape of his neck. "I had a feeling something was wrong."

He didn't want to burden her with the truth, but was touched that she had somehow sensed the danger he had just escaped. "As you can see, I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

"Better, now that you're here."

"Good. Here's my plan. I'll stay all night, just so you won't worry about me anymore."

His mouth covered hers again, then travelled over her chin and down her throat to find and nibble on the raised mole just below her right shoulder. One hand slid under her nightdress to cup and fondle her breasts, while his other caressed her thighs and hips through her gown. Hearing a soft moan of pleasure, she was brought back to her senses, realizing it had escaped from her own lips.

"No, not until tomorrow!" she reminded him, sitting up and pushing him away.

He breathed a hot sigh, disappointed but somehow amused, being well acquainted with her refusals over the years. "I was only testing you, Marian," he told her, with a devilish grin and a wink. "You passed, by the way."

"Grow up, Locksley."

She wasn't angry. In fact, she wanted to relent and urge him to stay, not that he'd need any urging. But there was something pressing she wanted to discuss, now that he wasn't making her body writhe with desire.

"Robin," she said, sighing, "I'm not, you know."

"What do you mean?"

Sensing her mood, he sat up beside her, his gentlemanly manners restored.

"I'm not...expecting a child. That's what you thought, wasn't it, when you said you had a hunch?"

He grew instantly upset. "Are you sure? Because, if you're not, I'd like to know what's making you faint! I love you, Marian, and I'm fine with it just being us, if that's the way God wills it, but I'm not fine with you being sick. We need to learn what's wrong, and take care of you."

"It's nothing but stress, I'm certain. Take tonight, for instance. I couldn't sleep, I was so bothered about you being in danger, when all the time, you were perfectly fine."

Robin still saw no need to enlighten her about his brief dungeon stay. It was already in the past, as far as he was concerned. But her fainting spells were ongoing, and they worried him.

"How do you know for sure, you're not...?"

"With child? My flux came three weeks or so ago, remember?"

He hung his head, sadly. "I forgot," he said.

She put her arms around his chest, tenderly consoling him.

"I love you, Marian," he told her, passionately. "I can't let anything bad happen to you."

"Nothing will. But first things first. Go home, get some sleep, and be waiting for me in the church tomorrow, on time. And run through the vows in your head tonight. I don't want to have to prompt you again!"

"That's Tuck's job," he answered, smiling lovingly back at her. "I'm pretty certain he'll say them at us, so all we have to do is repeat."

"I was only teasing. But I'm serious about you being on time, Robin."

"Don't worry, my love. I won't let you down. I've been looking forward to tomorrow, nearly as long as you have."

"Really?"

He nodded, then kissed her softly goodbye. "Goodnight, Marian. I wish I could tell you how I feel, but I've never been very good at it. I just...I just want to love you forever."

The expression in his eyes told her more than his halting words ever could. Her heart was so full, she couldn't find the right words either. Instead, she gently squeezed his hand, smiled trustingly up at him, confiding, "I'm sorry I misjudged you tonight. When I heard the king ask you to follow him to France, I thought you'd leave me again."

Dropping to his knees by her bedside, he took her in his arms. "Never again, I promise you. Goodnight, my wife."

Leaving was so hard, they ended up saying "goodnight" three or four times more, before he finally made it out her door, glowing inside from her love warming his heart.


	96. Chapter 96

Somehow, Robin managed to elude trouble the rest of the night. Marian, however, wasn't so lucky.

Just after she'd finally managed to fall asleep, she was awakened by the sound of music coming from outside her door.

"Fool minstrel!" she fumed, borrowing Robin's term for Blondel. Pulling on her robe, she strode to her door and threw it open.

Upon seeing her clad only in her nightclothes, hair loose and flowing, Blondel stopped singing and gasped. His oud, a stringed instrument he'd brought back from Outremer, almost suffered the same fate as his broken lute. Luckily for him, he caught it before it crashed onto the flagstones of the castle floor.

"What is going on here?" Marian demanded to know.

"My lady! My love!"

"How dare you? I am NOT your lady, let alone your love! Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"My heart cares not for time!"

"Well, I do! I was trying to sleep. You woke me!"

"Never again shall I praise the golden tresses so favored among my musical brethen in our troubadour songs! Not after viewing the wondrous sight of your hair, dark and richly flowing, like a river, down your back!"

"Are you even listening to me? Go away, and save your dribble for someone who cares! I'd like to get some sleep, before my wedding."

"My lady, I implore you! Marry not that swaggering braggart, Robin Hood, whose soul is devoid of music!"

"You're too late. We're already married. Goodnight."

Marian tried slamming her door shut, but Blondel, emboldened by her beauty, managed to squeeze through the doorframe.

"I tell you, Lovely Angel, he has no music in him! Ride away with me on my steed, and we shall make music together, such as you've never imagined!"

Marian gave him one of her withering looks, and the minstrel visibly wilted before her eyes. "For your information," she scolded, "Robin's 'music' is in his bow, in his caring for the poor, and in his eyes, when he looks at me. Your tunes, no matter how inspired, cannot hope to touch any of that."

Blondel sighed, distraught. "He has blinded you with that smile of his, with his obvious charms, with the muscles on his arms." His eyes lit up when he realized he'd rhymed, and he stored his words in his mind for a possible future ballad.

"Believe me, my eyes are wide open," Marian told him, curtly. "Now, I'll thank you to stop insulting my husband, and go away, so I may close them again. Goodnight."

Throwing open her door, Marian stood by, waiting for the minstrel to depart. But he, believing this might be his final chance, refused to take the hint. Boldly, he lunged toward her, lips puckered for a kiss.

Without even stopping to think, Marian drew back her fist and punched him in the jaw. Staggering backward, Blondel dropped to the ground.

"I asked you politely to leave," Marian told her unconscious would be lover, proud of the strength in her punch. Extremely annoyed, she dragged the man by his ankles into the corridor, then returned to her bedchamber, being sure to bolt her door.

...

"I, Robin, take you, Marian, to be my wedded wife..."

Robin repeated the words with feeling, kneeling beside the ethereal beauty on her knees beside him, in his own newly rebuilt village church.

He hadn't expected the impact of the emotion he was feeling today. After all, this was only a ceremony to fulfill a girlhood dream of Marian's, and to satisfy his village. Yet he knew it was more than that. It was the pledge of their hearts, no longer forced asunder by his own mistake, nor the subsequent events of injustice in the country they loved. This wedding, even more than their others, restored the lives that should have been theirs all along, uniting them for eternity.

Robin's shining moment came after Much, swiping back tears with the back of his hand, handed him the emerald ring Marian had sacrificed to help bring the king home. Placing it on her finger, Robin had to blink away one or two tears from his own eyes as well, for Marian's joy and surprise were everything he'd hoped for.

Jovial Friar Tuck was urging him to "Kiss the bride," as if he needed any urging. Robin barely heard the sounds of cheering, as he tasted the sweetness on Marian's lips.

Afterward, the thrice married couple enjoyed a celebration party such as Locksley hadn't hosted since before Robin had left for war. This was his real welcome home party, since he'd missed the first celebration feast, being busy trying to understand and deal with the horrible changes he'd discovered on his return.

This evening, everyone, excluding Blondel and Kate, and perhaps Princess Johanna, appeared beside themselves with joy.

"Master-"

"You need to stop calling me that, Much."

"I know. I know. It's just so hard."

Robin chuckled. "How are you finding Bonchurch?"

"Lonely."

"Oh." Robin made a mental note to visit Much in his new home more often. "Well, you're welcome to visit me here anytime," he told his loyal friend. "I miss you, too."

Much looked embarrassed. "It's not just you, Robin. Or the gang. It's Eve. When I lived at Bonchurch before, Eve was there. Now she's not. I made a promise to her, Master, I mean Robin, that I would find her, when justice returned to England. And now that it has, it's time I kept my word."

Robin felt stunned. He couldn't imagine Much venturing off without him, especially to seek after a woman he'd only known a few days. Still, he was glad for his friend. He only hoped Much would find his Eve, and that she'd be worthy of him.

"Shall I come with you?" Robin volunteered. It felt funny asking that, as if their roles had somehow been reversed.

There was nothing Much would have liked better. But, no, Robin's place was with Marian now. "No, Master, I mean Robin, I have to do this alone."

They embraced goodbye, and Robin returned to Marian's side. There were village songs and dances, far more free and lively than the courtly dances of the king's recent banquets. When village boys and men lined up to dance with their beautiful new mistress, Robin smilingly gave in and approached the princess.

"I believe I owe Your Highness a dance," he said, bowing courteously.

Johanna smiled up at him, embracing the bitter sweetness of the moment. "That's right," she realized. "You promised to dance with me the other night, and didn't."

Neither mentioned the reason. After she'd bared her soul at the banquet and begged him for a night in his arms, he'd felt it wise to avoid her. Tonight, Robin only grinned at her and said, "That's because I knew you'd have more fun dancing a village dance with me. Please, Your Highness? Your mother the queen seems to be enjoying herself."

Queen Eleanor did indeed appear to be having fun, dancing with a lumbering, stumbling, uncomfortable Big Bear.

"Very well," Johanna agreed. "I'll dance with you. But nothing too boisterous. I've not yet begun to show much, but I am with child, remember."

That was news to Robin. "Are you? Congratulations."

His thoughts were all concern for her, alone in the world, having escaped a husband whose child she carried, but whose brutality had made it necessary to flee. His gentleness and concern only served to make the princess cry, making her realize how much she wanted that could never be hers. But her breeding prevailed, and she hid her tears behind a forced smile.

As the moon began its descent, Robin felt Marian gently squeeze his arm. "It's nearly day," she murmured, sleepily.

He winked at her. "Spoilsport."

"I thought bridegrooms were supposed to be eager."

"Oh!" He grinned. "Well, in that case, Lady Locksley..."

Swooping her up into his arms, he carried her across the yard. Everyone but Kate stopped what they were doing and watched them, beaming happily. When they reached the door of his ancestral home, Robin paused. "Ready?" he asked her.

"I've been waiting all my life, Handsome."

"Welcome home, my love."

Amidst the cheers and applause of his people, Robin carried Marian over the threshold of Locksley Manor, and all the way up the stairs, to begin their new life together as Lord and Lady Locksley.


	97. Chapter 97

The first thing Marian saw, when opening her eyes late the following day, was a garland of flowers the village girls had put on her head, and her wedding dress neatly folded over the back of a chair. Smiling to herself, she recalled how Robin had risen from the bed shortly after the first time they had made love, to pick her dress up off the floor and lay it carefully aside.

"It's a very pretty dress, Marian," he had explained cockily, when her eyes questioned his.

She had felt far too happy to talk. Instead, she snuggled against him in the bed, knowing he had only been thinking of her.

"Whatever you want," he had told her passionately, "for yourself, for the house, to give to others, you go right ahead. Everything I have is yours. I want you to know that."

Warmth flowed through her, as she realized how hard it must have been for him as an outlaw, thinking he had been unable to provide all her wants and needs.

"I thought none of us had any more money," she teased him.

He chuckled, tapping her lightly on the tip of her nose. "We'll make some. I intend for everyone in Locksley to be prosperous again."

"How? You can't rob people anymore, Robin."

"You just wait and see. I used to be really good at managing my estates. Besides, Gisbourne's probably stashed something away here, somewhere. I doubt any of his wealth went toward the king's ransom."

"I don't think he had much. Somebody once stole all his money, remember?"

Robin threw back his head and laughed. Smiling adoringly at her, he said, "The beautiful Nightwatchman! Most of that was _my_ money, I've have you know! But it went where it needed to go."

"It went to the poor. And if we do find any money here, Robin, that's where it needs to go, first."

Robin caught his breath, finding himself desiring her again, already. His lips brushed lightly against her eyes, her cheeks, her chin, and when his mouth captured hers, he felt her passion as strong as his own.

...

Her dress, folded so carefully, while his clothes still lay scattered about on the floor. Marian was wide awake now, and tired of lying in bed. Smiling at the sleeping form of her husband, Marian got up and pulled his discarded shirt over her head.

Her own clothes were probably downstairs in trunks, but she didn't want them yet. She never seemed to have enough time alone with Robin, and this was one day when no one, not even Much, would interrupt them.

Moving quietly about Robin's bedchamber, _her _bedchamber now, she took her time examining object after object. These were her things now, too, she kept reminding herself, but they couldn't hold her interest, not when the real treasure lay sprawled out on the bed.

Robin lay on his belly, the bedcover over one leg, while the rest of him lay exposed. Just like that morning in the forest before they'd found Bat, Marian couldn't keep her eyes away from her husband's form. With his arms bent at the elbows and his hands on either side of his head, Marian had a clear view of the hideous scar Gisbourne had made, that had almost taken Robin's life. As always, it moved her to pity. Only a few short hours before, she'd pressed her lips into its ragged flesh, wanting to show Robin she loved every bit of him.

It could not mar his manly beauty. The handsome face, the warm, firm flesh, the muscles cording his arms, legs, and chest, the rise and fall of his strong lithe body, the curve of his backside. Marian felt him perfect, and felt lost in splendor, looking at him while he slept.

Very soon, however, she began to feel queasy. She had been hungry when she got up, but now, the thought of food sickened her. She swallowed several times, and tried gulping in the fresh air wafting through the open window, but nothing helped. Looking around the room, she desperately sought something she could throw up in.

Not finding anything, she woke up Robin.

"Help me," she pleaded, her face white and drawn. "I'm going to be sick."

Instantly, Robin leaped out of bed and brought her a basin, just in time. He held it for her while she was sick.

"Sorry," Marian apologized, lying down again on the bed.

Robin set the basin aside and returned to his wife. Comfortable with his nudity but concerned for her, he sat beside her on the bed, offering her a drink of water.

He didn't say a word, but as Marian began to feel stronger, she saw the worried look in his eyes.

But she, knowing for certain at last, couldn't keep from smiling.

"A few hours ago, you told me I could have anything I wanted," she reminded him.

Her cheerful mood helped ease his fears. "The offer still stands," he told her, lovingly.

She sat up and wriggled her back against the pillows. "I want a bath, and my clothes, and something to eat. I'm hungry."

"Hungry? Really? That's good, I think. You really feel like eating?"

"Yes, I do. I want quail eggs, but if you can't find any, I'll settle for chicken. Eggs, I mean. Definitely not squirrel!"

The dimples in her cheeks matched the sparkle in her eyes. Robin didn't move, studying her so carefully, barely daring to hope.

"Marian, is there something you want to tell me?"

She hugged her belly. "Matilda said it could happen, that a woman could have her flux and still be..."

She found herself in his arms, and she hugged him back with all her strength.

"Well," he said, breaking the embrace at last, looking dazed and happy. "That's quite some wedding present, Lady Locksley!"

She laughed. "You heard the ballad about our marriage. I was supposed to be 'as big with bairn as any lady could be.' I always thought whoever wrote that must have known something about our marriage vows in Acre, but-."

As if the mention of a ballad had somehow cued him, Blondel the minstrel struck up his oud, beneath their window.

" 'Then a garland they brought her, by two and by two,  
>And plac'd them upon the bride's head;<br>The music struck up, and we all fell to dance,  
>Till the bride and the groom were a-bed.<p>

'And what they did there must be counsel to me,  
>Because they lay long the next day,<br>And I had haste home, but I got a good piece  
>Of the bride-cake, and so came away.' "<p>

Robin and Marian's eyes grew wide at the verses Blondel had composed to describe their wedding. Robin was the first to laugh, and while Marian was less amused, her husband's laughter was so infectious, and she was so happy, she soon found herself laughing nearly as hard as he.

...

**(Note: There is a ballad about Robin Hood's marriage that was composed during the 1200s, that states that Marian was "as big with bairn as any lady could be," when they were married in the greenwood. I confess to snickering when I first heard that! The other verses at the end of my story come from another account of Robin Hood's marriage, first appearing in print in 1716.) **


	98. Chapter 98

**Epilogue, Part One**

"Hold still, Your Ladyship! I need to see how much more I can let out these laces, and I'll be done."

Hannah, the same seamstress who had created Marian's lovely wedding dress months ago, was now fitting her in a dark green velvet gown to wear at Much's upcoming wedding, for he had found his Eve.

It wasn't impatience this time that made it hard for Marian to be still. The ache in her lower back, her swollen ankles, heavy breasts, great belly, and shortness of breath, all combined to make a dress fitting difficult.

She was ready for her baby to hurry up and be born. Being with child was not an easy thing for an independent, spirited woman who thrived on adventure, and who was never very good at waiting.

Not wanting to be selfish nor ungrateful, Marian still couldn't help counting off the things an expectant mother could not do. Worst of all for her, she couldn't ride a horse. She couldn't run. She couldn't even bend down to pull up her stockings! And as for simple things, like trimming her toenails...! She couldn't even see her toes!

She refused to allow herself to fear childbirth, choosing instead to pray for a healthy baby and a safe delivery. But sometimes, in the dead of night, when her uncomfortable condition made it hard to sleep beside her sleeping husband, fearful thoughts plagued her. So many women died, giving birth. Both Robin's mother and her own had died in childbirth. And only recently, she and Robin had received the tragic news that the beautiful and vivacious Princess Johanna had bled to death after delivering her son Richard, in Fountverault Abbey.

But whenever she felt the new life within her womb move, Marian forgot all her worries and complaints, and felt herself blessed above all women. Her baby was a miracle, formed out of a beautiful act of love, soon to be born into a loving home.

Robin, of course, was nothing short of wonderful, cherishing her through all her contrairy moods, appreciating every moment of her pregnancy, excited as a small boy at Christmastide. Under her husband's remarkable leadership, Locksley was beginning to thrive again, and Robin, who'd never been very good at gift giving, showered her with gifts. Not only did he take pleasure surprising her with gifts for the baby, but he bought her lovely things for herself, such as a gorgeous nightdress to wear after her lying in, and, most surprising of all, a magnificent chestnut colored palfrey. And although she would have to wait a few months before she could ride again, Marian was delighted to groom the horse, to acquaint the mare with her voice and scent, so as to forge a bond between them. She'd named her Llanrei, after King Arthur's famous warhorse.

The loveliest moments of Marian's day now came after vespers, when she and Robin would sit beside their fire, her head on his shoulder, his arm encircling her ever expanding waist, talking of their day and dreaming of their future. Somehow, he still made her feel beautiful, for his eyes, and his gentle, loving kisses told her she was. He was patient and caring and thrilled about the new life growing within her, and they were happy.

Today, with the fitting complete, his mood was darker. Robin strode into the room, obviously wound up about something, even though he kept his manners toward the matronly Hannah polite and kind.

As soon as the seamstress departed, Marian eased herself onto a chair and asked, "What is it?"

First handing Marian a cushion for her back, Robin began to pace. "What do you think?" he almost snarled. "It's Eve! I don't know whether I can allow this wedding to happen!"

Marian shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable. "What has she done?" she asked, calmly.

Robin stopped his pacing and crossed his arms over his chest, striking a defensive pose. "Nothing criminal. Only blinded my best friend, so she can be Mistress of my hunting lodge!"

"_Your _hunting lodge?"

"Alright, Much's. I don't trust her, Marian. Remember who it was she used to work for!"

"You can't stop the wedding, Robin. You've got to let Much make his own choices."

"Mistakes, more like. And I will stop the wedding. What kind of a friend would I be, if I didn't?"

"A true one."

"Much stopped yours, to Gisbourne." Even after all this time, Robin spat the name "Gisbourne" from his lips, as though it were poison.

Marian took a moment, to let them both recover. "That was different," she said, curtly.

"How?"

"I wasn't in love, for one thing, not with the groom, anyway. You know very well I was marrying him, under duress."

"Agreed. But that sly vixen doesn't love my best friend, either! She's out for his title, his lands, and his money! If I'd known this would happen, I'd never have given him Bonchurch!"

Marian let another moment go by, to allow Robin time to calm himself. Rising from her chair with difficulty, she said, "Don't be so fast to judge her, Robin. You're usually so trusting of other people's natures. It's only because it's Much. You want to protect him."

"You're right. I do."

"But what makes you so sure he needs your protection? For all you know, she may love him every bit as much as he loves her."

Robin uttered a harsh laugh. "Because, Marian, he's Much, and she's beautiful, and no innocent maiden."

Immediately, Robin spied the hurt in Marian's eyes. "Hey," he said gently, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "No one's as beautiful as you are, my love."

Marian clasped and unclasped her hands with growing impatience. "That's very kind, but you just made an accusation against Eve, that you have no way of knowing, unless..."

"I hope you're not accusing me of being unfaithful," he said, growing angry. "I would have thought you knew me better than that."

"I would love to argue with you right now, Robin, but we're discussing Much. And of course, I know you!"

"But do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Good. I'd never cheat on you, Marian."

"You had better not! But I'd like to know why you think Eve's not a maid."

Robin looked away. "A man can tell these things," he said, with smug unhappiness.

Marian laughed, hurt and confused. "Can they? I find that comment arrogant, improbable, and insulting."

"It wasn't meant towards you. Unlike Eve, you have always been above reproach."

Marian stared at him, her mouth open wide in angry amazement. "Oh, now you're rewriting history, are you? In case you've forgotten, I seduced you before we were married, Locksley!"

"Believe me, I could never forget that! But I'd hardly call it seducing me, when I was going crazy, waiting for you. More like, we finally-"

"I don't want to discuss it."

Marian stretched her back, visibly uncomfortable. Instantly, Robin rushed to her side to help her again onto the chair. "Can I get you anything?" he asked, bending over her, concerned.

"Just some common sense, to fill that head of yours," Marian told him, grimacing with pain.

She groaned, as pain wrapped around her middle, stretching all the way to encircle her back. When it passed, she looked up at him, nervous and excited. "And maybe, yes! Bring Matilda, too. At once, Robin!"

He took in his breath, his eyes wide and dazed. "Ma-Matilda?" he stammered, unable to move. "What for?"

Another pain hit Marian, like a crashing wave. "We never seem to have enough time to argue," she said, smiling sweetly into his eyes, once the pain had passed. "Go, sweetheart! Hurry! Our baby's coming!"


	99. Chapter 99

**Epilogue-Part Two**

News that Robin had rushed Matilda to Locksley Manor spread like wildfire, and everyone stopped their daily activities, gossiping and praying while they waited expectantly for the baby to be born.

Much, believing that Robin would want him by his side, left Eve and Bonchurch behind and hastened to Locksley.

He found a seemingly stunned Robin downstairs in his house, nervous and excited and anxious, all at once.

For the first time in their lives, Much was the calmer of the two.

"Marian is...upstairs?" Much asked.

Robin's unblinking eyes looked upwards, obviously wanting to be up there with her.

"Well, then," Much continued, "that's wonderful! Amazing! Your waiting will soon be over!"

Marian's voice, sharp with pain, cried out from a room at the top of the stairs. Robin sucked in his breath and went pale, his eyes widening with alarm.

"That's good!" Much continued, trying to overcome his own anxiety. "I mean, she must be getting close now! Marian's never been a screamer, you know, Robin, not like other girls. She'll come through this. You know she will. I mean, the Lord tried twice before to take her, and He always sent her back! That, or she sneaked out of Heaven, the way she used to sneak from her room, as the Nightwatchman."

Robin wasn't listening. Another scream from Marian had sliced right through him.

"What have I done?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Much struck a pompous pose. "Nothing you won't be ready to do again, once Matilda gives you the all clear. Oh, yes! I know all about these things now, Robin! I'm a nearly married man myself, just like you, you know! Speaking of which, would you like for Eve and me to postpone our wedding, so Marian can come? Eve will be disappointed, of course, but I've known Marian all my life, and I want her there."

"Good idea," Robin answered, puffing the air from his cheeks. "Postpone it. Indefinitely."

"No, not indefinitely! Just until Marian's on her feet again! You're not thinking straight, you know, Master! I mean, Robin! Indefinitely? Really! Unbelievable!"

"No. Really, Much, I mean it. Don't marry that girl."

Much stood still, his mouth gaping wide open. "Wha-wha-wha...? That girl? She has a name you know, Robin! And she's going to take mine, if I knew what it was. 'Eve of Bonchurch,' I suppose will do. Or should it be 'Lady Eve of Bonchurch'? Either way, it does have a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Again, Robin wasn't listening. He was pacing and breathing heavily, shifting his bow from one hand to the other. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, he glanced upward, imploring in a hoarse whisper, "I never meant to hurt you, my love."

"It's a baby, Robin," Much reminded him, again, the calmer of the two. "They...they're supposed to hurt, when they're on their way out."

"But why?"

"Why are you asking me? Talk to Tuck, if you suddenly need to know life's mysteries! Here. Drink some ale. You really need to relax, you know. Unbelievable!"

A long drawn out scream from Marian's lips was followed by a moment of silence, and then, to the unspeakable joy of both men, the unmistakable cry of an infant.

"I knew it!" Much cried. "What did I tell you? I knew Marian could do it!"

Robin's smile was incandescent, but Much only had a fraction of a moment to clasp him in a brotherly embrace, before Robin shook him off and dashed up the stairs.

Knocking on the open door of his bedchamber, Robin entered reverently, as if approaching a church's altar. Marian sat propped up against a mass of pillows on the bed, her hair damp with sweat, despite the snow falling gently outside.

"Congratulations, Papa," Matilda smiled, handing Marian a bundle, wrapped in a snowy white blanket. Marian was smiling into the tiny red face, as if recognizing a long lost loved one.

"You're beautiful," she told the bundle, softly, with awe in her voice. "Look! Can you see him? That's your daddy!"

Robin felt as though he had walked into a dream. It seemed to take forever before his footsteps led him to the bed, when all he wanted to do was look into the face of his newborn child.

He still didn't know whether it was a boy or girl, he realized, not even when his beautiful, weary worn wife tenderly placed the bundle in his arms. "Beautiful," was all he was able to say, looking in amazement at the tiny, red, wrinkled face.

When he lifted his eyes to meet Marian's shining ones, his were damp with tears.

"She's so sweet, isn't she?" Marian asked him, euphorically.

His smile broadened. "A girl!"

"You're not disappointed?"

"Disappointed? I wanted a girl!"

"You didn't, but I'm glad you lied."

"But I love girls!"

Marian could only laugh at that and roll her eyes, and Robin, still holding their baby, sat down beside her on the bed. Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss on her lips, then held her gaze with his adoring one, telling her, "I love you, Marian."

Matilda saw her opportunity to interrupt the happy family. "Better give the little lass back to her mother. She needs to eat. What name are you calling her, Papa?"

Stepping closer, Matilda shooed Robin off the bed, so she could help Marian latch the baby to her breast. Robin watched in amazement, awed in the presence of so many miracles.

"Eleanor, after the Queen," Marian said, wincing slightly from pain, while the baby learned to suckle.

"Hmm! She's a little lass for such a grand name," Matilda commented, proud as she could be, since a boy she'd delivered in this very bed, a boy she loved so well, was a father now himself.

"We'll call her Ellen," Robin decided, unable to take his eyes off his wife and child. "It seems to fit."

"Ellen," Marian repeated with a sigh, smiling from Robin to their baby and back again. "Yes! It's perfect!"

"Now," Matilda said, wiping her hands on her skirt, "I'll leave you three alone. There's lots who can help you here in the manor, since neither one of you has ever cared for a baby before."

"I have," Robin boasted. "Found one in the forest. I've got a knack for babies."

Matilda hooted. "Tell me that again in the middle of the night, after you've been awakened three or four times. You'll learn, it's not a picnic, at first."

"I like a challenge," Robin bragged, still gazing in wonderment at Marian, with the baby on her breast.

"How will I know when she's had enough?" Marian asked, exhilaration overcoming her exhaustion.

"She'll let you know. Do you know how to burp her?"

"I know how," Robin volunteered eagerly.

"And do you know how to change a diaper?"

"I've done that, too," Robin admitted, and Marian looked at him, surprised.

"Seth was good practice," he told her, with a sheepish grin, "especially because we didn't have any diapers! We had to steal a sheet hanging on a clothesline, and cut it into pieces. So you see, Matilda, if I could take care of a baby in the forest, with no mother's milk, and no diapers, and no one to help but my outlaw brothers, I think I can care for my own daughter, here in our own home."

"Well then," Matilda agreed, "I'll go spread the news!"

So saying, she left through the doorway, smiling with happy satisfaction.

After she'd gone, Robin sat again on the bed, and Marian lovingly handed him their daughter.

"Did you hear yourself?" she asked, bubbling over with joy as she modestly readjusted her gown.

"What did I say?" he asked, unable to stop grinning.

Marian sighed again with a deepfelt contentment. " 'Our daughter,' you said. 'Our home.' It is a home, my darling. The happiest home in England."

"With all of Sherwood for our little girl to play in," he added, kissing his wife with loving tenderness.


	100. Chapter 100

**Epilogue-Part 3**

Robin, willing himself awake from his much needed nap, carefully lifted his arm from across Marian's body, and slid backwards off the bed. After pulling on his boots, he stepped carefully across the floor of his bedchamber so as not to awaken his wife and child. Glancing back once before leaving, he grinned affectionately to see mother and child still sleeping peacefully together.

As Matilda had warned, it was hard work, being parents to a newborn, and Marian and he were exhausted. Exhausted, but blissfully happy!

Their baby daughter was perfect in every way, and a new kind of love enveloped them. The former passionate relationship they had enjoyed so much had been replaced by a loving, sacrificing warmth, a mutual pride and protectiveness toward their daughter, and awe and respect toward each other as parents. They were truly a team now, content with cuddling while Marian recovered, being far too tired anyway to even think of anything more stirring.

As much as Robin would have liked remaining in bed longer, duty toward his village propelled him up and out his door. He had just ordered pack horses saddled to a large cart, when Much rode into his yard.

With Eve consumed in wedding plans, Much had been looking forward to spending the remainder of the winter afternoon beside the fire at Locksley, enjoying Robin and Marian's hospitality, and playing with their baby. He should have known Robin had other plans.

"Much!" Robin cried out, his face lighting up in a friendly smile. "You're just in time, my friend!"

"In time? In time for what?"

"Nothing dangerous! I'm only going to drive this cart into Sherwood, to gather wood. You can help me."

"No, thank you! I've gone on enough seemingly innocent errands with you over the years, and they always turn to adventures! Oh, no. I didn't ride all the way from Bonchurch just to put my life at risk, while you throw yourself into some life threatening scheme! I came to visit you and Marian by your fireside, and bounce your baby on my knee!"

Robin shrugged. "You'll have to wait," he said, good naturedly. "Marian's catching up on some well earned sleep, while Ellie's napping. And I'd be sleeping, too, if I didn't need to fetch wood while there's still daylight." Indicating a large woodpile near the center of his village, he explained, "Since the king didn't revoke the forestry laws, like I suggested, I'm the only one around here permitted to take firewood from the forest, and if I don't keep that woodpile stocked, there'll be a lot of people shivering come morning."

"Why don't you just look the other way when your villagers gather wood, the way you used to?"

Robin sighed. "Would save me a lot of work, wouldn't it? But not this winter, I'm afraid. Gisbourne had everybody so scared of their own shadows, they don't dare venture off the path of the law, not even to protect the lives of their children. That's the real crime, if you ask me."

Hearing that, Much gave in, as Robin knew he would. "Alright," he agreed, reluctantly. "I'll go with you. But promise me, you won't do anything foolish! No adventures! No danger! Just a nice quiet drive through Sherwood, to gather sticks."

"Logs, more like! But don't worry, Much. Waking up every two or three hours, every night for two weeks straight, has cured me of my thrill seeking, at least for now."

"Good! Glad to hear it! Remind me to thank your daughter when I see her!"

By now, the cart had been horsed, and Robin, looking vigorous as ever, leaped aboard and grabbed the reins. Much eased himself up, to ride beside his friend.

Much had to admit, it was pleasant, riding along in a safe, slow moving cart, having Robin's company all to himself, on a mission of kindness. And even better, Robin seemed willing to talk!

Much opened the conversation with, "He sailed for France this week, the king, so I heard. Can you imagine? Sailing in a winter gale? Unbelievable! I'm glad we're not along! I had enough swirling seas under my feet the first time we sailed with him! Do you remember those storms outside Sicily? I was sure we would die!"

Robin ignored the memory, to think upon the news of Richard's departure. "We'll have to be vigilant, Much, and stand up for justice. We can't let what happened the last time the king left England, happen again. I'm counting on you, alright?"

Much's eyes grew wide, wondering what he could do. But Robin would know. Robin would tell him, and he'd obey.

"You're not sorry we didn't go with him, are you?" Much asked, taking it for granted that if Robin had chosen to go fight alongside the king, then so would he.

"There's too much holding me here," he answered, grinning happily. "My only regret is I'd like to be in France, if it means I could hunt down Gisbourne."

"Maybe the king will find him."

"If anyone can, it will be Richard!"

In a dense part of the forest, Robin drew rein, and together, he and Much began loading the cart with fallen logs. It was heavy work, and despite the snow on the ground, both men grew warm.

Taking a short break, Much commented, "Fatherhood suits you, Robin! I like the new you! You're steadier!"

"I've always been steady, Much."

"Yes. Well, perhaps. But what I mean is, we're almost done, I think you'll find, and we haven't run up against a single spot of trouble!"

Robin snickered. "We're not out of the woods yet."

"Very funny!"

"Don't worry, Much. I told you, I'm too tired for adventure. But it's worth it. Ellie's an adventure all by herself."

"Yes. Diapers, and feedings, and the like."

"Not that! She's...I can't explain it."

"You like taking care of her."

"I love it! Most babies are...most babies look like old men. They're bald, and toothless, and wrinkled. But Ellie looks like a flower! She's beautiful, and she knows me already! When I hold her, I just...like I said, I can't describe it."

Much knew better than to say Ellen of Locksley was not the beautiful creature her parents believed her to be. At least, not yet. But surely she'd grow up beautiful. With two such good looking parents, she was bound to turn heads, one day.

"I only hope I'll enjoy fatherhood so much, when it's my turn," Much stated proudly. "Eve and I prefer to wait awhile, to have some time alone first, if that's possible."

Robin felt the time had come for him to speak his mind about Eve. Being so happy and content lately, he'd put Much's upcoming wedding out of his mind, but he couldn't shrug his duty to his friend any longer.

"About Eve," he began.

"The bravest, loveliest girl I've ever known!"

"I hate to argue with you, Much, but I've got to warn you. I think you need to wait, and be sure, before you marry her."

Much turned his head and stared at Robin, his mouth agape. "Be sure?" he asked, flabbergasted. "I've never been so sure of anything in my life!"

"I don't trust her," Robin admitted. "Think about how you two met. She was working for the sheriff, Much!"

"And she changed. She told me she was, because she loved me, and she worked for us! That's right, you heard me! She loved me, Robin! She loves me!"

"So she leads you to believe."

"Unbelievable! You don't think she loves me! Why, Robin? Because she's beautiful? Because she is, you know! Eve is beautiful, and she loves me! Not you! If we stood side by side, she'd choose me over you, and you can't accept that!"

"I don't want Eve to choose me, Much. I've got Marian. I'm only saying-"

"You can't believe a woman like Eve would fall for me?"

"It hasn't happened before."

"Unbelievable! I can't believe you! Oh, no! I'm good enough to stand by you all your life, to always put myself in your shadow, and the first time I have someone of my own, you tell me I'm not good enough!"

"I would never say that, Much. In fact, I think you're too good for her. I think she's after your title, and your house and land. I want you to be happy. I've always wanted you to find someone to love. I just don't think Eve is the one."

"Eve lets me sing!" Much proclaimed, as if playing his trump card. "She even sings along with me!"

Too tired to argue, Robin shook his head, sorry he'd hurt his friend. There was little more he could do, he realized. He'd spoken his heart, and hadn't been able to convince Much. He'd only managed to anger and hurt him.

"I am so sorry, Much," he admitted, looking through hurt eyes. "I haven't been able to let you go yet."

"I'm going to marry her, Robin. I love her. She loves me. And I want you as my best man, despite how you feel."

Robin hesitated, marvelling at his friend's forgiving heart. Marian had told him he needed to let Much forge his own life now, for better or for worse, and she was right. He'd do his best, and follow her advice.

Everything was changed. The king had returned, and was already gone again. Much was getting married, to a woman he barely knew. And so, just like England in the king's absence, Robin would watch, and act, to pick up any broken pieces along the way. He prayed there wouldn't be any, but he loved his country, and his friend, too much to do otherwise.

"I'll do it, Much," he told him, clapping his hand on his friend's shoulder, "with my blessing. And now, we'd better get this wood back to Locksley before the sun goes down. We'd never hear the end of it, if we got lost in Sherwood!"

Relieved, Much both laughed and cried. "You'll learn to trust Eve," Much told him. "You'll see! And when we're wrinkled and bald and toothless, like your baby, and reminiscing by our fires, I'll remind you how I knew she was my perfect match, just like Marian's yours."

"You'll be bald and toothless. I'll still be good looking."

Much laughed, and the deep bonds of friendship were restored. Side by side, they rode back to the village of their births, to chop and stack the wood they'd gathered so that the good people of Locksley would stay warm all winter long.

THE END


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